Mithril and Gold
by TempestParamour
Summary: Tal, the niece of Balin and Dwalin, is in way over her head. Not just because of the quest and its hardships, oh no: it's because her heart does this weird little flippy thing when a certain golden dwarf gets a bit too close. Her big brother taught her how to fight battles against beasts and enemies, but not her own emotions.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello and welcome to Mithril and Gold, the fanfiction I've had saved up in my head for a while now. The only things I own are Tal, Fal and the altercations to the plot, though if someone wants to give me a hobbit hole to live in, I'd be much obliged ^_^**

I fussed with the fur trim of my autumn cloak, pulling it tighter around my frame as a brisk wind chilled through me, blowing back what few curling strands had escaped my several braids from my face. Moonlight cast a gentle, silvery glow on the richly-tended earth and curious dwellings that was the Shire. I found all of the round doors and abundance of thriving flowers rather adorable, to be perfectly honest. Shifting the weight of my sword at my hip, I tilted my head back to look up at the brilliant moon that had just begun its climb through the heavens.

A few paces ahead of me, my aging escort turned back to me with a chuckle. "_Tal_! Come now, lass, or we'll be late!"

I shook myself from my dreamlike state and smiled. "Coming, Uncle Balin."

"Are you sure this isn't too much for you?" He asked concernedly, crossing his arms as he stared me down. "The journey ahead will make the trip from the Iron Hills to here seem like an easy jaunt. There's no shame in staying back with your brother—,"

"No!" I exclaimed quickly, wincing at both the thought of staying home instead of following the promise of adventure and at how the shout echoed through the quiet, hilled village. "I'm perfectly fine, I promise."

My guardian tsked, but smiling softly he let his arms drop to his sides. "I still don't know how you talked not _only_ your older brother, but your two war-hardened uncles to allow you on this venture."

I twirled my dark, curling sideburn around my index finger. "It probably had to do with the fact that you all knew I'd come, whether I was allowed to or not."

"Too true." Balin looked to the moon's position, deciding the time. "Ach! We must hurry, before your uncle Dwalin devours all of our host's food."

"How will we know which house is the one belonging to this Mr. Baggins?" I asked as I all but jogged to keep up with my uncle's brisk pace, surprised that such a portly man could move so quickly.

"Our destination was to be marked by Gandalf with a rune."

I hummed thoughtfully, taking a closer look at the peculiar doors they passed as they made their way through Hobbiton, following the path that wound its way around the entirety of an enormous hill pockmarked with tiny doors and windows. None of them, be they blue or yellow or red, had any rune etched into their surface. I felt my impatience rising (along with my appetite). "I'm going to scout ahead."

"Very well, but try to be quiet."

With a curt nod, I took off, all but dashing past a nondescript green door towards the top of the hill, until I saw a glimmer of silver at the base of the door's surface. I waved to get my uncle's attention, and we stood before the door as the elder dwarf rang the bell.

The door gave way to show a mildly distressed, sandy-haired hobbit in a patchwork robe. Balin smiled amicably at whom I supposed was to be our host and bowed from the waist. "Balin, at your service."

My curly hair fell in my face, a few braids tickling my cheeks, as I copied my uncle's etiquette. "Tal, at your service."

"Good evening." The hobbit deadpanned. I flicked my uncle a concerned look as I straightened, but he just smiled.

"Yes, yes it is, though I think it might rain later. Are we late?" Balin asked seriously.

Our esteemed host looked a bit distraught at the question. "Late for _what_…?"

Balin was cut off, though, as I ran into the house with a happy cry. "Uncle Dwalin!"

The burly dwarf looked up from where he was trying to take a biscuit from a glass container and grinned. "By my beard! Look at you, you're the spitting image of your mother!"

I smiled brightly in response, clasping forearms with my younger uncle. "Fal says the same thing, whenever he looks up from his latest project, that is. I don't have her beard, though—I don't think I'll _ever_ get a beard." I sighed resignedly, rubbing my hair-free jaw.

My smile dimmed a bit more at the thought of my elder brother sitting all by himself in his beloved forge. Giving myself a mental shake, I moved aside so Balin could greet his brother, distracting myself from my thoughts by taking in my surroundings. _How curious—it's like a warren,_ I thought as I idly removed my cloak and coat, hooking them onto a rack by the door. As I twisted my many braids into one complex plait, I peered through round archways into the immediate rooms branching from the entryway, taking note of all of the books and teacups strewn about and various reading nooks. It was, in a word, cozy, especially with the addition of the chandeliers above casting a golden glow on everything and warmth seeping into me from the hearth.

My gaze fell upon Bilbo, who was staring at my legs with something almost akin to embarrassment. "What's wrong, Mr. Baggins?"

"It-it's just…it's just odd, is all." He stuttered, looking away and making flustered motions at my travelling breeches.

I gave him a bemused grin. "Pants are a fair bit easier to travel in than the heavy dresses I wear at home, though not as fashionable."

At the call of my name, I followed my uncles to the pantry, Dwalin placing a mug of ale in my hands before I was fully through the archway. I sipped at it unconsciously as I perused Bilbo's impressive stock, the hobbit chattering some unintelligible and nonsensical babble in the doorway and the alcohol pleasantly burning its way to my stomach. "What is _that_?" I asked, gesturing with my mug at a white and blue mass.

Balin eyed it, suspicious. "I think it might've been cheese, but it's gone blue."

Picking it up, Dwalin sniffed it, holding it precariously in his calloused fingertips. "It's _riddled_ with mold." Distaste evident in his voice, he threw it over his shoulder, and Balin wiped his gloves on his robe as the doorbell rang throughout the house.

I set down my mug and leaned out of the doorway to see who Bilbo was answering the door for. The door swung back to reveal two dwarves that I guessed to be about my age.

The golden one spoke first. "Fili—,"

"And Kili—," The dark-haired dwarf followed.

The two bowed and said in unison, "At your service."

Kili dimpled at Bilbo. "You must be Mr. Boggins!"

"Nope!" I raised my eyebrows in shock as the hobbit tried to slam the door in the dwarves' faces. "You can't come in, you've come to the wrong house."

"What?! Has it been canceled?" Kili asked, looking concerned.

Fili looked frustrated. "No one told _us_."

I was sure Bilbo's brow was just as furrowed as Fili's. "Canceled, what? Nothing's been _canceled_—,"

"That's a relief!" Kili grinned, shoving past Bilbo, making room for his brother (or so I assumed them to be) to saunter in behind him and immediately begin unloading his weaponry upon their host. My own sword still hung at my hip, its weight a comfort to me, my handing resting on its pommel out of habit. I watched as Kili scraped the mud from the road on a nondescript chest, upsetting poor Bilbo.

"Tal!" Jumping at the sound of my name, I turned to Balin, who was struggling with a large amount of dishware. "Move the chairs into the great room, will you?"

"Yes, Uncle." Tossing my braid over my shoulder, I grabbed two chairs and started hauling them into their designated location, whilst Dwalin enlisted the aid of Fili and Kili to begin moving the table. On my way back for the other chairs, my arm brushed against Fili's, who could do nothing but nod in acknowledgement as he hurried to help his brother.

The doorbell erupted again, as did the hobbit's temper. "Oh, no. No! _No_! Go away; there's nobody _home_! There's _enough_ dwarves in my dining room as it is! If this is some- some blunthead's idea of a joke, ha! HA! I can only say, it is in _very_ poor taste!" I poked my head through the doorway to the great room, where I was helping Balin set up the table, just in time to see several dwarves fall through into the entryway.

"Sounds like everyone else has arrived." Dwalin chuckled drily, taking another long drink from his tankard.

Those numbers did help to hasten the process of getting supper ready, however; soon the long table was laden with heaps of food, Fili and Kili moving a barrel of ale closer to the room for better access while many others, to whom I was hastily introduced and most of their names I had quickly gotten mixed up, helped bring more chairs.

And then we feasted.

Laughter and raucous shouting filled what I supposed was normally a rather quiet home, and I found myself squeezed between Kili and a dwarf I thought was Nori. The happy (and, admittedly, not entirely sober) atmosphere was infectious, and I found myself laughing with the rest of the company even when I wasn't entirely sure what I was supposed to find so funny. I had to clutch my ribs through my leather vest to stop my sides from splitting when Bofur threw an egg right into Bomber's mouth, eliciting laughter and cheers from everyone.

Once we had eaten our fill, several of the dwarves began ambling from the table to snoop about the rest of the house, tankards of ale clutched in their greasy-fingered grips. I stretched as I rose, brushing some crumbs from my violet linen shirt, smiling a bit at the opalescent mail that glittered just underneath. I had very few tokens of my mother's left, having sold several of them to keep my brother's shop from bankruptcy, but my mithril-mail I wore at all times, save when I bathed. It had been one of the key points I'd used to persuade my relatives into allowing my on the venture.

Beating my brother in a duel had helped, as well.

As I stepped into the hall, I was plowed into from the side by Fili, who reached out a hand to steady my before I could fall.

"Thank you, Fili." I smiled, straightening once I'd regained my balance.

His golden hair glimmering in the candlelight, Fili smiled back. "Think nothing of it. It is odd that you know my name, though I do not know yours."

"It's Tal."

"Tal." The young dwarf repeated, testing the name on his tongue like a wine. My cheeks heated a bit. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

I inclined my head, smiling beatifically. "And you as well."

His lips spread in a grin, and I felt my heart throb. As he strolled away down the hall, I rubbed at the spot over my heart, scowling thoughtfully, until Bilbo's cries of outrage and the laughter from my newfound comrades drew me from my tumbling thoughts and back into the kitchen as Kili began singing.

"_Blunt the knives, bend the forks!"_

Fili took up the beat, continuing to bounce dishware back to his brother. "_Smash the bottles and burn the corks!"_

"_Chip the glasses and crack the plates!"_ The other dwarves and I chimed in, and I moved out of the way as Nori began to throw the silverware to Kili. "_That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!_

Cut the cloth and trail the fat!  
Leave the bones on the bedroom mat!  
_Pour the milk on the pantry floor!  
Splash the wine on every door!  
Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl,  
Pound them up with a thumping pole,  
And when you've finished, if they are whole,  
Send them down the hall to roll!  
That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"_

Once we'd all had our laughs at Bilbo's expense, there was heard a loud pounding at the door. Gandalf's face turned somber, his pipe leaving his mouth long enough for him to somberly say, "He is here."

I lingered in the great room while the others filed out into the hallway to greet the last member of our party. When they all filed back, I bowed respectfully to Thorin, earning a nod of acknowledgement. I claimed a seat between Balin and Bofur, feeling blood start to creep up my throat under Fili's gaze from where he sat across the dark room.

Thorin's conversation with my uncles went largely missed by me as I attempted (and failed) to ignore Fili while I surreptitiously snuck glances at him, catching a quick glimpse of one of his tawny braids, his nose, his eyes catching mine each time. I wondered what color they were; I made a mental note to check the next time I was close enough.

"We may be few in number, but we're fighters! All of us, to the last dwarf!" Fili's rings flashed in the candlelight as he pounded the table.

Kili chimed in, looking almost giddy. "And let's not forget that we have a wizard in our company! Gandalf will have killed _hundreds_ of dragons in his time." In response to this claim, Gandalf sputtered something unintelligible, huffing on his pipe.

Curiosity burning, I asked, "Have you?"

The wizard blinked at me. "Have I what?"

"How many dragons have you killed?" Dori asked. I dropped my head into my hands as my fellow dwarves leapt to their feet, bickering and snapping at one another, a headache beginning to rise up in my mind. I did my best to zone out as I rubbed circles at my temples.

"'Twould appear that Mr. Baggins is not our burglar." Balin sighed, startling me out of my ministrations.

"Aye, the wild is no place for gentle folk who've no way to fight nor fend for themselves." Dwalin chuckled, resting his head on his fist.

As Gandalf struggled for an appropriate response, my kinsmen rose up in outrage, shouting at and over one another. "Enough! If I say Bilbo Baggins is a _burglar_, then a _burglar_ he is!" Settling back into his seat, Gandalf motioned at Balin. "Hobbits are remarkably quick and light on their feet, making them ideal, and he's got more to offer than any of you know, even himself. You've left finding the sixteenth member of our company to me, and _I_ say Mr. Baggins is our burglar." In a lower voice he added to Thorin, "You're going to have to trust me on this."

Thorin looked grim as he thought it over before acquiescing. "Very well. Give him the contract."

My older uncle rose to give Bilbo a contract similar to the one I had signed back home, giving a brief list of all it entailed, which the cautious hobbit began reading aloud. "Lacerations…evisceration?" His brow pinched with concern, he turned back to the rest of us. "_Incineration_?"

"Oh, aye, he'll melt the flesh right off your bones." Bofur said in a matter-of-fact tone, waving his pipe in the air.

"Are you alright, Bilbo?" I asked, twisting in my seat in case I needed to leap to Bilbo's aid.

The hobbit in question doubled over, resting his hands on his knees with the edge of the contract clenched in his fist. "I need some air, I think."

Bofur leaned across me, eyes gleaming with mischief. "Think furnace, with wings! Flash of light, searing pain, then poof! You're nothing more than a pile of ash!"

"Bilbo?" Gandalf questioned, bushy brows pinched together.

"I'm fine. Wait." Bilbo straightened, expression blank. "Nope." In the same breath, he twisted in the air and collapsed to the floor.

Gandalf grunted as he rose from his chair. "_Very_ helpful, Bofur." He grumbled, moving to carry the fallen Bilbo.

I rose, too, headed towards the kitchen to help Dori prepare some tea for when Bilbo woke. A hand at my wrist stopped me, and I turned to see Dwalin motion for me to follow him. He all but dragged me through the hall and around a nondescript doorway until we stood in what I supposed was the sitting room, if the couches and enormous fireplace were any giveaway. "What is it, Dwalin?"

"I'm sending you back to your brother at first light." At my cry of outrage, Dwalin spoke louder. "Don't try to argue with me, lass! You saw how Bilbo reacted just to _hearing_ about the beast! What if that's how you reacted once you saw it?"

"But I _won't_!" I snapped, jerking my hand in his iron grip in an effort to break free. "I signed the contract, knowing the consequences and possibilities!"

"You signed the contract seeing nothing but a chance for adventure and glory!" He spat back, eyes narrowing into a glare. "Tal, understand that I'm just trying to do as your mother would wish me to."

I felt my wrist beginning to bruise from how my twisting was making the metal of his gauntlets dig into my bones. "_My_ _mother_ would've done the same as I am! Why else would she have a shirt of mithril made?" I whispered the last, using my captured hand to pull up the sleeve of my free one to expose the edge of mithril at my elbow. "She wanted adventure at some point, too!"

"Before coming to her senses and becoming a mistress of the forge." Dwalin deadpanned, rolling my sleeve back down so the mithril was concealed again.

I sighed heavily, attempting to get a grip back on my temper. "I am _seventy-nine years old_ now, uncle! There are dwarves half my age already bragging about their victories in battle and starting their own trades and quests. I waited all of these extra years patiently. I've trained with Fal and his friends in the army—I beat Fal so bad that I had to spend the next _week_ healing him! What more would you have me do to prove that I am capable?"

As I watched him work his jaw, fighting for words that would prove him right, Dwalin released his grip on my wrist, and I took a step back.

"There will be rules, conditions."

My ears perked, eyebrows rising towards my hairline with my surprise. "Yes, of course."

My uncle began pacing in front of me, hands on his hips and his boots sending thunderous tremors through the wood floor. "You will take the utmost care to preserve your health: even if you are wearing that infernal shirt, recklessness can hurt the rest of the company, and who knows how old that mail is anyway. No wandering off by yourself as I know you like to do; you _will_ stay with the lads, Fili and Kili, the easier for me to keep an eye on _all_ of you."

"Yes, Uncle." I was too astonished to say anything else.

He pulled me forward by my shoulders, knocking his forehead gently against mine before embracing me as he did when I was much, much smaller. "If anything were to happen to you, my stubborn little lass, I—,"

"I know." I smiled, hugging him back. _I love you too, Uncle._

He cleared his throat, pulling away after thumping me on the back. "Very good. Now, go get some rest; it'll be a very early morning tomorrow, I'm sure."

I nodded, smiling warmly up at him again before leaving through the opposite door. Many of my kinsmen had gathered in the parlor across the hall, smoking their pipes and sharing stories, as I'd seen Fal and his comrades do hundreds of times before. Normally I would join in, just to listen if nothing else, but I had never been one for ale, and the alcohol tugged at my consciousness. Stopping to pull my cloak from the hook by the door, I set up against the wall opposite from the door, leaning against the arch in the wall for support and using my cloak as a blanket. My eyelids drooped closed to the rich, dulcet singing of the others.

_Far over the Misty Mountains cold  
To dungeons deep, and caverns old  
We must away  
'Ere break of day  
To retrieve our long forgotten gold  
The pines were roaring on the height  
The winds were moaning in the night  
The fire was red  
It flaming spread  
The trees, like torches, blazed with light._

I jolted awake, eyes flying open and hand gripping the hilt of my sword as I surveyed my unfamiliar surroundings. In the beginning rays of the dawn coming through the tiny windows, I could just make out the forms of several sleeping dwarves around me, and it took me a moment to remember why and how I got here.

_Ah, that's right, _I thought, rising up slowly so as not to disturb the others and picking my way carefully to the door,_ I'm here to help take back Erebor. _I pulled the door open wide enough for me to slip through, closing it gently behind me, and followed the steps down to the gate. I leaned on the fence as a support as I stretched to look over Hobbiton, astonished to see so many people up so early in the day. Several hobbits were already at their day's work, tending gardens and beginning their laundry.

"The first morning, and you're already breaking your promise." A voice chuckled to my left.

I turned to see Balin trudging up the hill, a heavy-looking satchel slung across his shoulder, and opened the gate for him. "Uncle! What are you doing up so early?"

The white-haired dwarf gave something akin to a snort. "I'm old, of course I'm awake early. And this is just some things I noticed we were running low on when I went over the provisions yesterday."

"Will it be time to leave soon?" I asked, a thrill of anticipation clambering up my spine.

He nodded. "Aye. As soon as the others are up and ready, it will be time to depart."

I went back inside long enough to collect my belongings before going to check on the ponies that waited in a small field at the base of the hill, checking their saddles and soothing the more skittish as Balin had bid me. The others awoke within the next hour or so, breaking their fast as they prepared themselves, while I ate mine as I got more acquainted with the ponies we were to ride. I was in the process of feeding my apple core to a mare the color of loamy soil (I had dubbed her Lily) when I heard a heavy _thud_ behind me, turning to see it had been Dwalin's belongings falling to the grass.

"What're the rules, Tal?" He prompted calmly in his grumbling voice, going over the saddle before hooking his bag to the saddle.

Heaving a sigh, I rolled my head to face him. "Honestly, Uncle?" He glared at me until I had to look away and so, closing my eyes, I surrendered. "No wandering off on my own. Stay with Fili and Kili. Don't do anything to get myself or the rest of the company killed."

I was rewarded with a smile and a firm slap on the back. "There's a lass."

The others soon appeared and claimed their own mounts as I climbed onto Lily, pulling my fingers through her coarse mane as we waited for the others. It was only when we were all ready to ride out that I realized we were one burglar short. "Where's Bilbo?" I asked Balin as he began to make his way to the front, where Thorin waited to lead us out. "Isn't he coming?"

"I'm afraid not, Tal." He gave me a gentle smile before continuing on.

On Thorin's command we rode out, passing through the vibrantly green hills and the already bustling marketplace. Bofur and Ori rode in front of me, Fili and Kili behind me, as we were nearing the end of the Shire.

Bofur was nearing the end of an extravagant tale about great white beasts to the north (inspired, in my belief, by the white fur lining of my coat) when I heard the shouting.

"Wait! WAIT!"

"Did you hear that, too?" I asked Kili, who was directly behind me. The company pulled to a stop as he nodded, and we all turned to see the halfling racing along the path to the front of the line, the eagerness in his expression making me grin.

Catching his breath, the hobbit waved his contract like a banner for all to see. "I've signed it, I've signed the contract."

"Let's see it, then." I could practically hear the restrained smile in Balin's voice as he accepted the proffered contract, pulling out his magnifier to better read the document before snapping it shut. "It's official. Welcome, master hobbit, to the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

**A/N: This seems as good a place as any to cut it off until the next chapter. Thank you very much for reading, and should you have any comments, questions, concerns, or generally nice things to tell me, go ahead and please review ^_^**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello again! Thank you so much for the favorites/follows. Again, all I own from this are Tal, Fal, and some plot alterations.**

Bilbo was given a docile mare named Myrtle to ride, one of the spares we had to carry supplies. I was amazed by how enthusiastic he was at the mere prospect of adventure; surely this was not the same hobbit who was so easily frazzled over dishes and mud the night before?

I was assured that this was, indeed, the same hobbit when not moments into the ride he ordered the entire party to stop. "We _have_ to turn around!"

"What is it, Bilbo?" I asked, struggling to keep the smile from my voice.

"I forgot my handkerchief."

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Fili and Kili exchange a glance. From where he had ridden up ahead, Bofur reached down and tore off the corner of his wool tunic, tossing it at Bilbo. "Here, use this."

The halfling wrinkled his nose at the road-traveled strip, and I found myself digging in my saddlebag for one of the handkerchiefs Fal had made me pack before I'd left. I'd laughed as he told me, 'Surely you'll have to be ladylike at some point on the venture. Handkerchiefs are ladylike…right?', but at least the extras came in need right now. I dug out the least feminine one I could find and spurred my pony into motion, coming up beside the disgruntled Bilbo. "Here, Bilbo. My brother packed too many." I offered in explanation when he looked confused.

"Thank you very much, Tal." His smile was gentle as he tucked the handkerchief into his coat pocket, and I noticed he had dropped Bofur's offering.

I grinned back. "You're very welcome." I let myself fall back to the rear of the company where Fili and Kili were after a pointed _look_ from Dwalin.

Kili leaned forward on his horse. "You have a brother?"

I smiled softly at the thought of my brother. "His name is Fal, and he acts like he's a few _decades_ older than me rather than a few years. He has a forge back in the Iron Hills."

"Do you miss him?" Ori asked from where he rode beside me. The more I looked at him, the more he reminded me of the ponies, or a cow—sweet, but not quite the sharpest.

A laugh bubbled up from my chest. "It's a bit early in the journey to start missing him, isn't it? Besides, I'm still in shock that he _actually_ allowed me to go on this venture. I keep expecting him to come racing over one of the hills to drag me back home."

Fili gave me a lopsided grin. "Would he really do that?"

"Without a doubt."

The rest of the day went by well, with Bofur telling innumerable jokes and stories to keep the company in good spirits and Ori (who was apparently being looped in with us, the easier to keep track of him), Fili, Kili and I trading questions.

It was near dark by the time we stopped to set up camp on a rocky rise overlooking a forested valley. After unloading our belongings from the ponies and letting them to graze, Dori and Oin got a fire going while Bofur, Bombur and Bilbo dug around in the provisions packs.

"Say, Tal?" Bofur called.

I barely looked up from where I was struggling to set up the tripod over the fire, sweat collecting on my upper lip and brow from the heat. "Yes?"

"If you're going to ask her to _cook_," Dwalin chuckled as he came over to help me, "I suggest you do so at your own peril."

Hands on my wide hips, I straightened to my full height as my burly uncle locked the gear into place, making sure it was secure. "Was my cooking really _that_ _bad_ the last time you had supper with Fal and me?"

His answer was abrupt and left no room for doubt. "_Aye_."

To the roaring laughter of my companions, I punched Dwalin in the shoulder, blushing furiously. "You needn't be so honest about it!"

"I'll cook, then." Bilbo offered, shrugging out of his velvet coat.

"Why don't you help the lads collect more firewood?" Dwalin rumbled, giving me a gentle push towards the tree line. "Supper should be ready by the time you all return."

Grumbling to myself and attempting to will away the heat from my cheeks, I reached down just past the tree line and picked up a cedar branch. I continued along, searching the forest path and mumbling quiet complaints under my breath.

"Do you need help with those?"

A startled gasp escaped my mouth as I whirled around, struggling with the large amount of wood I had unwittingly accumulated. Fili stepped closer with a light laugh, holding out his hands to take some of the branches. I felt my heart clench and flip at his nearness: what was the _matter_ with it?

I forgot about my odd heart as his face lowered to peer into mine, my mind blanking except for one thought: grey. His eyes were grey, with the barest tinge of hazel around the pupil and surrounded by a thick fan of lashes the color of honey. The longer I stared into them, the more I got the sensation of falling, my ribs constricting around my lungs and making it harder to breathe.

Fili's brow pinched in concern. "Tal? Tal, are you alright? You look a bit feverish."

_Snap out of it!_ I scolded myself, giving myself a mental shake. "I'm fine, thanks. Sorry, I didn't realize I'd gathered so much." I apologized as he took the top half of the stack.

"It's no matter." He said with a smile. "I'm sure we'll burn through it, cold as the nights are becoming."

"Right." I agreed, following him back to the camp.

* * *

I flopped back on my sleeping pallet with a contented sigh, my stomach warm and full. Looking around, I could see that many of the others were in the same state, picking bits of stew from their beards or rubbing their stomachs happily. So far, the journey had been calm. What had Fal been so worried about?

My eyes were just drifting shut when I felt the nudge of someone's boot digging into my side. I opened my eyes with a groan to see Dwalin leaning over me, the fire casting shifting shadows over his face and making him seem even larger than he already was. "Yes, Uncle?"

He held out a hand to help me stand, which I begrudgingly took. "You're to be on first watch with the lads."

"Alright." Casting a longing look at my pallet over my shoulder, I crossed the camp to where Fili and Kili sat on a rocky shelf by the fire, smoking their pipes. We sat in companionable silence, the boys puffing away at their pipes while the heat from the fire warmed our feet. At some point Fili must've shifted to be more comfortable because his knee rested against my hip, the sudden contact making my heart spasm, and I was glad for the fire that I could blame for the heat creeping up my neck. I gradually found myself slipping into a reclining state, lounging in the silt around the fire ring with my arms propped up on the rock shelf, my sword across my lap. Fili hummed something low in the back of his throat, the richness of the tune almost lulling me to sleep.

A sudden, horrific sound drowned out the comforting crackle of the fire, and I sat up straighter, my fist clenched around the hilt of my sword. Thorin woke, and Bilbo looked up from where he was stroking Myrtle's nose. "What was _that_?"

"Orcs." Fili said calmly from where he lounged against the rock face, toying with his pipe. "Throat-cutters. There'll be dozens of them out there. Lowlands will be crawling with them."

Kili chimed in, looking unusually serious. "They strike in the wee hours of the night when everyone's asleep, quick and quiet. No screaming. Just lots of blood."

I hid the shakiness in my fingers by clenching them tighter around the leather grip, doing my best to will away the gory mental image as the two exchanged a glance and chortled at the halfling's expense. Thorin rose up, expression dark. "You think a night raid by orcs is _funny_, do you? You think it's a joke?"

The lads swallowed their laughter, merriment dying from their eyes. "We didn't mean anything by it." Kili said sullenly, looking down at his hands.

"_No_, you didn't." Thorin practically spat, the iciness in his voice making me shiver a bit. "You know nothing of the world." He growled as he paced away.

Kili looked absolutely crestfallen at having disappointed his uncle. "Don't mind him, laddie." Balin said consolingly, stepping from the shadows and scaring me half to death. "Thorin has more reason than most to hate orcs." Taking a deep breath, Balin launched into a tale I had heard many a time as I was growing up. "After the dragon took the lonely mountain, King Thror tried to reclaim the ancient kingdom of Moria. But our enemy had gotten there first.

"Moria had been taken by a legion of orcs, led by the most vile of all their race: Azog, the Defiler. He looked to wipe out the line of Durin. He began by beheading the king. Thrain was driven mad by grief, killed or taken prisoner, we had no way of knowing. We were scared, leaderless.

"That is when I saw him. A young dwarf prince, facing down the Pale Orc. He stood alone against this most terrible foe, his armor rent, wielding nothing more than an oaken branch as a shield. Azog, the Defiler, learned that day that the line of Durin would not be so easily broken. Our forces rallied and drove the orcs back. Our enemy had been defeated, but there was no feast nor song that night, for our dead were beyond the count of grief. We few had survived. And I thought to myself then, there is one I could follow. There is one who I could call King."

I looked to Thorin, silhouetted against the night sky and surrounded by those who had stood with him on that day, and I wondered—had my father stood beside him at some point in that battle before being slain? Before becoming one of the innumerable dead?

"And the Pale Orc?" Bilbo asked, looking to Balin. "What happened to him?"

"He slunk back to the hole from which he came. That _filth_ died from his wounds long ago." Thorin spat, returning to the fire.

Bofur turned over on his pallet nearby, mumbling softly, "Nothing like light storytelling about the fire before going to sleep."

A hand rested heavily on my head, and I looked up to see Balin offering me a consoling smile. "Your father fought well that day, lass. Do not look so troubled." With a sigh he lowered himself to the rocky shelf beside me, squeezing my shoulder. "You younglings go on and sleep. I'll take the next watch."

* * *

I pulled my hood lower over my face with a scowl as more rainwater dripped into my eyes, tightening my legs' hold on Lily's torso. We'd been riding through the rain for the past two days, using our cloaks as tents of sorts when it came time to sleep. At first it had been light, more of a mist than anything, but now it poured down in heavy sheets, obscuring our vision and putting everyone on edge.

"Mr. Gandalf!" Dori cried out over the pounding rain, and I grit my teeth at how whiny he sounded. "Can't you do something about this _deluge_?"

"'Tis raining, master dwarf, and it shall continue to rain until the rain is _done_." I bit the inside of my cheek now against the urge to laugh, a few giggles escaping me nonetheless. I heard Kili's and Fili's own snickers respond to mine, and Dori cast a frumpy glare at our trio, making us laugh even harder.

My laughter died down a bit though as I caught a glance of the drenched hobbit, lacking both cloak and hood. I could practically hear Fal lecture at me even as I spurred Lily closer to Bilbo. 'Don't give your cloak away! You'll catch cold!' he would say, crossing his burly arms over his chest, his face turning as red as his beard the more upset he got. All the same, my fingers were at the clasp of my cloak, undoing it, and I was suddenly very cold as I draped the warm, heavy fabric over Bilbo, locking the clasp and drawing the hood up for him as he sat, frozen in shock.

"You looked positively miserable." I chuckled, biting out the words so that he wouldn't hear my teeth chattering.

"You can't!" he cried out, dropping the reins and then clenching at them tightly as he began to slip from the pony.

"I have my coat." I pointed out. "Besides, you obviously need it more. What would we do if our burglar and chef fell ill due to the rain?"

"I'm fine, really!"

I lifted the hood enough for him to see my smirk. "Forgive me for saying so, Mr. Baggins, but you're a _terrible_ liar."

Bilbo blushed, caught in his lie, and pulled the cloak closed around him. "Indeed. Thank you very much, Tal."

I nodded in response and waited for Kili and Fili to catch back up. Now that Bilbo was far enough away, I allowed myself a quiet, violent shiver as the rain's chill raced up my spine, loose curls plastering to my face where they'd escaped my plait.

Kili shook his head at me with a laugh, tugging on my braid where it thudded soothingly along my spine. "Silly girl! Why'd you do that?"

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Did you really want to suffer through my cooking?"

"Fair enough." he dimpled, adjusting his hood.

"However, if you'd _waited_ long enough," Fili added, and I let out a startled cry as a heavy, voluminous cloth dropped over me from where he had thrown it onto me, "we would've given him the spare we had packed away."

I lifted the hood, only able to see Kili's confused face, a question clear in his expression before he shrugged at some silent answer his brother had given him. I fixed the cloak around me so it sat right, surprised at how warm it was and how, even though it had supposedly been sitting in a saddle bag, it smelled like neither horse nor leather, but like sunlight and mountain air, with a hint of pine. Tawny fur lined the inside, and I realized I was _not_ wearing a spare; I was wearing Fili's cloak. A glimpse from the corner of my eye showed me that he was busy struggling with the cloak that was still partially in the saddle bag, confirming my suspicion.

My heart fluttered erratically against the confines of my chest, my blood pounding in my cheeks and ears. Why would he lend me his own cloak? I dug my fingers into the flesh over my heart as if to quell its thundering, and each breath of the cloak's—of _Fili's_—scent chased a bit more of the cold away.

A few hours and a sore backside from riding all day later, the rain stopped, the clouds clearing away almost at once to reveal the sapphire-blue sky. It was later than I'd thought: the sun rode low in the heavens, already preparing for its rest.

It was but moments later that we came across a snug valley, its only occupants a forest and the supports and roof of an old house. Casting a thoughtful glance about the visible property, Thorin nodded. "We'll make camp here tonight."

"A farmer and his family used to live here…." Gandalf murmured, as though to himself, his expression troubled.

"Oin! Nori! Get a fire going!" Thorin demanded, sliding free from his pony. "Fili, Kili, Tal! Take care of the ponies!"

With a cross between a sigh and a groan I all but fell off of Lily, kneading at my lower back. She turned her great head in my direction, letting out a huff and tossing her head. I smiled, staring into her big brown eyes, and patted her velvety nose.

"Let's take care of you now, yeah?" I tugged at the straps connecting my belongings to her saddle, my things slowly but surely falling dejectedly to my feet. I chewed my bottom lip subconsciously as I eyed all of the other straps connecting her saddle to her, unsure of what to do. All of the other times, Dwalin or someone else had gotten to her before I could. As I began to fuss with her other straps, hoping I wasn't tearing the entire damn thing completely apart, Gandalf stormed past me.

"Gandalf? Where are you going?" Bilbo asked, sounding alarmed.

"To seek the company of the only person around here who has any sense!" The wizard thundered, his robes billowing around him like a storm cloud.

I could see Bilbo's frown as I stood up, and exchanged a puzzled glance with Fili.

"And that would be?" the hobbit asked.

"_Myself_, Mr. Baggins!" Almost under his breath, Gandalf added, "I've had more than _enough_ of dwarves for today."

_Well, that's not quite called for._ I thought to myself as I yanked the saddle free, earning a grateful snort from Lily. "He's just frustrated, that's all." Fili spoke up from where he worked on another horse behind me, smoothing some sweat from its shoulder. At my questioning _look_, he whispered conspiratorially, "You were muttering under your breath."

The tips of my ears grew hot with embarrassment. I toyed with the clasp on Fili's cloak until I found the catch and released it, catching the heavy length of fabric before it could fall to the ground. Folding it in half, I held it out to him like an offering. "Thank you, by the way. For lending me your cloak."

I thought that his cheeks looked a bit red, but it might've been the glow of the large fire. "How do you know that the cloak is mine?"

"I saw you pulling the spare from your saddle bag."

"Ah, yes, well…" I laughed lightly as he struggled for words. Clearing his throat, he reached out to take the cloak from me. It was my turn to blush as his hand found mine within the folds of the cloak. He gave my fingers a squeeze, and my breath caught as he captured my gaze with his. "You're welcome to my cloak whenever you need it."

"Thank you." I said softly, trying to ignore my erratic heart. "We should probably get back to taking care of the ponies."

Fili grinned, releasing me from his hold. "There's no need. Kili and I took care of the others while you were focused on your own."

"Are you two planning on helping me with the rest?" Kili called from where he was leading the ponies to graze in a copse of trees, his smile ruining his annoyed façade. Tossing his cloak on top of his things as we passed them, Fili and I guided the remaining ponies to where the others were already nibbling away at the grass.

Then came the wait.

I perched on a log next to Fili as Kili practiced his archery on a tree a ways away so as not to spook the ponies. He was a good shot, and it was interesting to watch his face slip into intense concentration only to flicker into an expression of complete surprise when the arrow actually met its mark. After a while he stopped, rolling his shoulders, and cast a glance over at me. "Have you ever tried a bow, Tal?"

"Once or twice, but I was awful at it." I admitted, flicking some lichen off of my arm.

Fili appeared thoughtful. "What about throwing daggers?"

"Oh, no." I laughed, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. "After what happened when I tried archery, Fal wouldn't let me use anything airborne."

"Then this ought to be entertaining." He smiled, rising to his feet. "I'll be right back."

Kili and I watched him lope away back to the camp. He looked worried as he asked, "What was it that happened when you tried archery?"

"I missed the mark completely and almost ended up shooting my brother in the eye." I confessed, toying with the end of my braid.

"Kili!" Fili came tromping through the underbrush, a scowl marring his features. "Where's your pack? I think I stuck my knives in with your things again."

"_Again_? Our packs aren't even the same _color_—,"

"Just help me find them." Fili grabbed his brother by his shoulder, ushering him back in the direction of camp. "We'll be right back, Tal! Keep an eye on the ponies!"

I stood with a disgruntled sigh, brushing dirt and leaves from my backside and walking towards Lily where she nibbled at a nearby patch of grass. "Looks like it's just you and me, sweet girl." I murmured, running my fingers through her mane. I began braiding her mane, lounging against an old oak and looking up over the ponies after I'd finished each braid, taking a quick head count.

"I think your hair looks better than mine does right now." I told her with a smile after the sixth braid, blowing some of my hair out of my face. My braid had all but completely unraveled through all of the rain and how much I'd been tossing in my sleep. I let my hands fall from her mane with a soft sigh, resting my head against the tree and looking to where Fili and Kili had gone. What was _taking_ so long?

My face snapped in the direction of the forest beyond this little copse as the ground trembled beneath me, the sound of my sword being drawn washed out by the ominous cracking and groaning of trees being broken. Lily snorted and stomped, the whites of her eyes showing in pale rings around her irises. With my free hand I stroked Lily's nose in an attempt to soothe her. I scanned the shadows beyond the trees, not seeing where the apparent threat was coming from.

In the distance I saw a large, grey _something_ reach out and snatch up two of the ponies, pulling them into the dark. The cracking and groaning receded into the night, and the ponies that remained went back to grazing. I was left with a sharp sense of indecision: should I chase after the whatever-it-was that had taken the two ponies? What if there were more, and they took the rest of the ponies while I was pursuing the two?

I put my sword back in its scabbard, careful not to accidentally slice Lily, and sat back down on the log, keeping a running head count in my head as I waited for the others. _Lily…Myrtle…Minty…_.

Fili and Kili came back laughing into the clearing, their good cheer making me unsure if I'd really just witnessed the abduction of two ponies. Another head count assured me that we were, in fact, down two ponies.

"Sorry, Tal." Fili began, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment. "It turns out the knives actually _were_ in my pack."

"I told you they were." Kili grumbled.

Fili knelt down to be at my eye level, waving a hand in front of my face. "Tal?"

"Something came out of the forest and took two of the ponies." I blurted out, staring at the space between his brows.

He looked taken aback as he stood up, pulling me to my feet with him. "Did you see it?"

"No, it was too far away, over by there." I waved a hand towards the broken trees.

Kili let out a huff, thinking, then brightened considerably. "Bilbo!"

Fili scowled in confusion, and I shook my head at Kili's sudden outburst. "I really doubt that it was Bilbo that took—,"

"I'm sorry," we all turned to see Bilbo walking towards us, a bowl of what smelled like stew in each hand and another balanced between them, "_what_ is it that I'm supposed to have taken? I'll have you know I've never stolen a thing in my life, _thank_ you."

"Just the hobbit we wanted to see." Kili started. "We were supposed to be watching the ponies,"

Fili continued on. "But we seem to have encountered a _slight_ problem."

"We _had_ seventeen,"

"Now we have fifteen."

Bilbo blinked, looking much paler than he had been a moment ago. "What can I do to help?"

"We thought, as our official burglar, that you might help us figure out what took them." Fili ushered Bilbo towards the other end of the clearing, Kili and me following in their wake.

Bilbo stopped at a tree that had been nearly uprooted, blanching in a way that was almost comical. "It would be something huge, by my guess—shouldn't we tell Thorin?"

"Let's not if we don't have to." I said quickly, gripping the hilt of my sword in agitation.

Fili nodded. "There's no worrying him. Let's see what we can find by looking—what's that?" He wondered suddenly, squatting and peering into the trees. "There's a light."

"A light?!" I knelt by him, holding his shoulder to keep my balance, and saw a flickering of what might've been firelight in the distance.

"Let's go see what it is!" Kili whispered excitedly.

Fili met my eyes, as though checking to see if I was up to the challenge, and at my nod we plunged into the darkness, Bilbo right behind us.

**A/N: Kind of a filler chapter, but it's going to pick up next chapter! Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Hello! I'd like to thank Marina Oakenshield for her reviews and welcome the new followers/favoriters. You're all stellar.**

**As per usual, other than Fal and Tal and some plot-tweaking, I own nothing.**

Fili, Kili, Bilbo and I raced forward through the underbrush as quietly as we could, coming to a halt as the ground began to shudder beneath us, the sound of cracking trees getting closer. Fili and Kili grabbed my wrists and pulled me down with them behind a nexus of roots, Bilbo ducking behind a nearby tree. The dear hobbit still had the bowls of stew precariously balanced in his shaking hands.

My breath hitched in my lungs as a tree not ten paces away was knocked to the ground by an enormous, boulder-like creature, a frightened pony under each of its arms. I noticed the boys' grips on my arms had exchanged for grips on their weapons. Through a break in the roots we could see the silhouettes of two other trolls besides the pony-thief.

"_Trolls_," Fili murmured, his breath stirring the hair by my ear.

Bilbo crept over to where we were hiding, peeking over the root wall as we did. "They've got Myrtle and Minty!" I mentally checked them off of my head count; now we were down to _thirteen_ ponies. "I think they're going to eat them—we have to _do_ something!"

The lads and I looked at Bilbo, surprised to see him so passionate about something other than cleanliness and food. "Yes, you should!" Kili agreed, looking excited. "Mountain trolls are slow and stupid and you're so small they'll never see you!"

I gave Kili a disbelieving look, and Bilbo adamantly refused, even waggling his finger at the young dwarf. "No ,no!"

"It'll be perfectly safe." Kili continued reassuringly, taking the topmost bowl of stew from Bilbo. "Besides, we'll be right behind you."

Fili took the rest of the bowls from Bilbo, handing one to me and giving him a light push through a break in the wall towards the fire. "Should you fall into trouble, hoot twice like a barn owl, once like a brown owl."

"Once like a barn owl, twice like a—no, twice like a…brown…are you sure this is a good—?" Bilbo stopped muttering to himself, and I heard an almost imperceptible shift in the foliage as he moved away.

I raised my eyebrows at Fili as Kili began dashing back towards camp. "You can't honestly think that Bilbo can handle this on his own."

"Of course not, which is why Kili went to go get the others and our weapons." Fili said, looking proud of his cleverness.

I ran my thumb over the pommel of my sword, thinking. If there was only one troll, I might've attempted to distract it while Bilbo freed the ponies, but there were three. Barely suppressing a groan, I realized Bilbo didn't even have anything to cut the rope I thought I could see that served as a makeshift pen. My sword was too big; it would catch and reflect the firelight, drawing attention. I whirled on Fili with a sharp intake of breath, dropping the stew in exchange for gripping his arm. "Your throwing knives, do you have them?!"

"Yes—_no_." He added, as though realizing what I meant to do. "No, Tal."

"My sword's too big; it'll catch even the _trolls'_ attention. I just need to borrow _one_, Fili."

He gave me a look like _are you stupid?_. "It's not about the _knife_! There's no way I'm letting you go out there!"

I cocked my head at him, putting my hands on my hips, and stared right into his slate-and-hazel eyes. "Since when do you have _any_ authority over me?! I seem to remember us both being on the same level. _Besides_ that, you didn't seem to have any trouble at all with letting our burglar go out there!"

"_Bilbo_ isn't _you_!"

I blinked at the statement, wondering at the odd red tinge to his cheeks. "Well, no, Bilbo is Bilbo and I'm me, but that's self explanatory."

"That's not—," Fili rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand. "_Please_, just wait for the others."

"_Please_, just hand over the knife." I retorted, impatience rising.

"_Tal_—,"

A startled yell from the trolls cut off whatever he was going to tell me. "Blimey! Look what's come out o' me 'ooter! It's got arms and legs and everything!"

"What is it?" another troll asked.

"I don't know," the first answered, "but I don't like the way it wriggles around!"

There were the sounds of scuffle, the ground beneath us trembling as the trolls moved around. "What are you, then? An over-sized squirrel?" The third troll questioned.

"I'm a burgl—er, hobbit!" I gave Fili a pointed _look_ when Bilbo spoke, but he just used my grip on his sleeve to tow me forward so we could get a better look at the situation.

The trolls had Bilbo trapped, blocking the accessible exits, one wielding what appeared to be a broken longsword, the others a sort of makeshift scythe and, humorously, a ladle. The one in the apron with the ladle looked confused, yet interested. "A _burglarobbit_?"

"Can we cook 'im?" the first asked, eyeing Bilbo hungrily.

The one with a scythe moved forward. "We can _try_!"

The gourmet of the group didn't sound so keen. "He wouldn't make more than a mouthful, not when he's skinned and boned."

"Might be more of these burglarobbits around," the one with the broken sword said, expression brightening, and made a grab for Bilbo, "maybe enough for a _pie_!"

Bilbo tried to run and dive between the legs of the troll with the scythe, only to be caught by the feet and hoisted into the air upside-down by the one with the broken sword. "Gotcha! Now, are there any other of you li'l fellas 'iding where you shouldn't be?"

"No." Bilbo sounded almost calm, considering the situation he was in, and remarkably brave to try to lie to the trolls.

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I turned in the direction Fili pointed to see our companions getting into position, weapons at the ready. I drew my sword as quietly as I could, Fili drawing both of his falchions, and we moved behind the troll with the scythe, still hidden by the foliage. Kili reappeared by his brother, practically vibrating with adrenaline.

But, stupid as they were, even the most idiotic of the trolls seemed able to see through his awful attempt at trickery. "He's _lying_!"

"I'm not!" Bilbo denied, twisting around.

" Hold his toes over the fire! Make him _squeal_!"

Kili roared out from our cover, slashing at the back of the knee and calf muscle of the most foolish of the trolls, who elicited an inhuman scream and nearly fell on top of Fili and me as it clutched at its wounds. "_Drop him_!"

"Or you'll what?" Sneered the troll holding Bilbo.

"I said," Kili dropped into a battle-ready stance, "_drop_ _him_!"

The troll growled in response, and Kili had to drop his sword in order to not impale Bilbo, whom the troll had thrown, as he caught him. With a collective roar the rest of us poured into the small clearing, attacking the trolls as Kili and Bilbo got to their feet. It reminded me of sparring with Fal and his friends, except this was so much more chaotic. I had to be mindful not _only_ of the trolls' fists and feet, but of my comrades' weapons, dodging war-hammers and sword slashes. I felt lost in the rage and the blood-lust, relying on instinct and peripheral vision to both attack and feint.

"Tal!"

I turned at my name, running towards where my burly uncle had his fingers locked together, just enough space in his hands for my boot. I vaulted off of Dwalin's hands, my loose hair blowing back as he all but threw me towards the chef troll's face, and I slashed my sword at its eyes. I grinned as it yowled in pain, momentarily letting my guard down, and another troll took advantage of that, grabbing me in its meaty fist and squeezing the air from my lungs. I gasped and wheezed as its reeking fingers tightened around me, stabbing into the space between its thumb and index finger with my sword so it would drop me, and I hit the ground hard, barely avoiding the swing of Gloin's battleaxe and a shot from Ori's slingshot.

"Are you alright, lass?" Balin asked from where he stood over me.

My hip ached and throbbed from where I'd landed on it, my palm stinging from the bits of twig and bone that had scraped against it, and I was still out of breath. "I'm fine."

I accepted his hand and he pulled me up, side-stepping as Fili sliced the fingers of the scythe-wielding troll to release Ori.

"_Bilbo_!" I turned at Kili's outraged cry, whirling around to see the halfling gripped by the arms and legs by the other two trolls.

"Lay down your arms!" The troll with the broken sword ordered. "Or we'll rip 'is off!"

Breathing heavily, I looked around at the others to see how they would respond. Looking absolutely infuriated, Thorin stabbed his weapon into the ground, and begrudgingly the rest of us threw ours down as well.

It was both a bizarre and humiliating experience, being forced to disarm completely and remove my armor in front of my comrades and the three trolls. Dwalin did his best to conceal me from the view of the other dwarves as I stepped into a sack provided by one of the trolls—Bert, I think he was called by the other two—though I was sure that the others were too busy to bother looking my way. I had rolled my mithril shirt inside of my linen one in an attempt to keep it hidden, rolling that bundle up in my pants, just in case we did make it out alive.

Those of us who they weren't going to cook immediately had our large burlap sacks tied up around our necks so we couldn't escape, and we were heaped carelessly off to the side, my head smacking against Kili's as I was thrown on top of the mountain of dwarves (and a hobbit). I could do nothing but watch as Dwalin was tied to an enormous spit with Dori, Ori, Nori and Bofur, the troll with the broken sword beginning to turn them over the large fire.

Of course, being hot-tempered as we all were, we would not go out quietly. I ripped and pulled at the burlap with my hands and nails as the others thrashed, kicked, and snarled insults at the trolls. I rolled to the side after being inadvertently punched and kicked one too many times in the side and head, tumbling into the space between Fili and Gloin, my legs tossed over Bilbo's.

"Don't bother _cooking_ them!" The one with the more nasally voice huffed. "Let's just sit on them and squish them into jelly!"

I gave an involuntary shudder at the mental image. Fili bumped his shoulder against mine, giving me a half-smile I guessed was supposed to be comforting, and I bumped him back.

Bert, the apparent chef, snorted. "They should be sautéed, and grilled with a sprinkle of sage."

"That _does_ sound quite nice." The scythe-bearer acquiesced.

The troll turning the spit sounded exasperated. "Never _mind_ the seasoning; we ain't got all night! Dawn ain't far away, so let's get a move on. I don't fancy being turned to _stone_."

"Wait!" Bilbo called out, struggling underneath me, and I lifted my legs so he could wriggle out. "You are making a _terrible_ mistake!"

"You can't _reason_ with them," Dori wailed into the night, "they're half-wits!"

Bofur let out a self-deprecating snort. "Half-wits! What does that make _us_?!"

Bilbo, finally managing to stand, hopped a ways closer to the trolls, sounding out of breath from the exertion. "Uh, I meant with the, ah, with the seasoning."

I stared disbelievingly at the back of the hobbit's sacked feet, directly in my line of sight. His only complaint was what herb he was to be served with? _He must've hit his head harder on the ground than I thought, if that's all he's concerned about. Though I suppose, being a hobbit, it makes a bit of sense._

"What," the aproned troll asked, leaning in towards Bilbo, "_about_ the seasoning?"

"Well, have you smelled them? You're going to need something a bit stronger than _sage_ before you plate this lot up."

"_Bilbo_!" I gasped, incredulous, my cry lost amongst the yelling of my kinsmen.

"What would _you_ know about cooking dwarf?" the troll at the spit sneered.

Bert waved his free hand at the other troll. "Shut up and let the, ah, flurgaburburrerhobbit talk."

"The ah, the secret to cooking dwarf is, um," Bilbo started, the bag swaying as he shifted his weight.

"Yes, come on." Bert prompted, his eyes glinting with the promise of a new recipe to try. "Tell us the secret!"

Bilbo's entire body practically shook, and I could tell he was trying to use his hands to talk from within the confines of his sack. "Yes, I'm _telling_ you! The secret is…_to_ skin them first!"

"Tom, get me filleting knife." Bert ordered, grinning in anticipation, as my fellow dwarves bellowed at the halfling. My efforts at escape renewed, twisting onto my side so that I was partially hidden behind Fili. My heart was _not_ fluttering because I was pressed against him so close that I could smell the scent that had lingered on his cloak and feel his body heat through the burlap (though that definitely wasn't helping); it was spasming because we were about to be skinned and flayed alive. My breathing thinned and quickened as I tried to wiggle my hands through the slight amount of space between my throat and the mouth of the sack.

"What a load of rubbish!" Tom the troll scoffed. "I've eaten plenty with their skins on. Scuff 'em, I say, boots and all."

Fili turned to look at me, face pale and mildly perplexed as to why I was practically hyperventilating into his side. "Tal?" His eyes widened as he noticed my fingers sticking out of the top of the bag. "What do you think you're _doing_?"

I opened my mouth to tell him to turn around and try not to draw attention to me, but all that left my lips was a startled yell as I was lifted by the back of my bag by the last troll, my rings scraping my neck as I quickly pulled my hands back down into the sack.

"He's _right_! Nothing wrong with a bit o' raw dwarf!" I felt bile shoot up the back of my throat at the stench that clouded from the troll's mouth as he pulled me to face level. "_Nice_ and _crunchy_!"

_I _refuse _to die like this!_ I bared my teeth at the troll in a feral snarl, thrashing violently as the troll's maw gaped open under me, my vicious movements unraveling my braid completely and leaving my face hidden behind my hair. "_Imrid amrad __achrâch__!_" _Die a death of agony!_

Bilbo hastened to remedy the situation. "Not-not _that_ one! Sh-she's infected!"

_Excuse me?!_

"You what?" Tom asked from where he manned the spit.

"Yeah, she's got worms in her…tubes." Bilbo made a face, like he couldn't believe what had just come out of his mouth, before meeting my gaze. His expression beseeched me to go along with it.

_By the gods, he's a genius._

The congested troll let out a sound of revulsion and flung me back on top of the others. Kili took the brunt of my fall in his stomach, the reflex making him shoot into an upright position with a groan. I apologized to him quietly while Bilbo went on. "I-in fact they all have, th-they're infested with parasites. It's a terrible business; I wouldn't risk it, I really wouldn't."

From above my head, I heard Oin begin grumbling. "Parasites? Did he say parasites?"

"_We_ don't have parasites!" Kili barked, and had my arms not been pinned between us I would've punched him. "_You_ have parasites!"

Our comrades were quick to call Bilbo a fool and deny that they had parasites, yelling over one another and ruining Bilbo's credibility. Twisting around so that I was essentially sitting on Bombur, I pulled my arm back as far as I could within my sack and slammed my fist into Kili's abdomen as Thorin kicked the back of his head, effectively shutting him up. The others looked to the leader of our company, quieting down at his pointed _look_.

"…I've got parasites as big as my _arm_!" Oin began.

Kili took up the cry. "Mine are the biggest parasites—I've got _huge_ parasites!"

"We're riddled!"

"Yes we are!"

"Badly!"

Tom and Bert exchanged a concerned glance before Tom relinquished the spit to the third troll. "What would you have us do, then?" Tom asked, stepping closer to Bilbo. "Let 'em all go?"

Bilbo cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "_Well_,"

Jabbing at Bilbo with one enormous finger, Tom 's voice dripped with disdain. "You think I don't know what you're up to? This little _ferret_ is taking us for fools!"

"_Ferret_?!" Bilbo leaned back, offended.

"_The dawn will take you all!_" My breath caught in my throat as I peered through the hair that hung in my face to see a familiar wizard silhouetted against the first rays of dawn. I felt a grin stretch across my face in relief—I wouldn't be a troll's early-morning meal.

Bert squinted up at Gandalf. "Who's that?"

"No idea." Tom all but shrugged, giving the spit another turn.

"Can we eat 'im, too?" The last troll asked eagerly.

Gandalf struck his staff against the enormous boulder on which he stood, stepping to the side as the other half fell away to show the sun cresting over the horizon. The trolls shrank away from the sunlight, howling and screaming in pure animalistic agony as their flesh turned the same material of the rock on which Gandalf stood. Their joints creaked and groaned before settling permanently into their statue forms.

I roared in triumph with the rest of the company, cheering for the Grey Wizard.

"Well done, Master Baggins." Congratulated Gandalf once he was on our level, making the hobbit blush modestly. He cast a look over the rest of us, as if deciding where to start first, and with a few murmured words put out the large campfire, much to the relief of those who were trussed above it. A few more magic words and uttered curses of pain from the flash-released dwarves from the spit later, I stood off to the side of the clearing, back turned to the others and the petrified trolls as I adjusted my vest over my linen shirt, the mithril shirt cool and comforting against my skin.

"Are you alright, lass?" Dwalin asked, tattooed forehead lined with concern.

I smiled weakly, looping my sword belt around my waist. "I'm _fine_. I promise. Besides, shouldn't I be asking _you_ that? After all, you were the one being roasted over a campfire like a hare."

His lips quirked in a smirk. "Aye, that's so, but _you_ were the one almost eaten by a troll."

I clenched my jaw, hiding the shaking of my hands at the memory by fussing with my scabbard. "And what good will talking about it do? I told you I'm perfectly well."

"Tal," Balin came up from behind Dwalin, peering at me from under his bushy brows, "what's happened to your neck?"

Ah. I'd forgotten about that. I rubbed my raw throat, noticing that it was scabbing in a few places from where my rings had actually broken through the skin, small as they were. "I tried to pull open the bag enough to slip out, but then the troll grabbed me and—,"

"You wonderful, stubborn girl!" Dwalin laughed, clapping me on the shoulder. "I should've known you'd try something like that. And I'd thought it brave enough that you'd cursed in the face of death. Balin, d'you have your medical kit on you so we can heal our little spitfire?"

"It doesn't need any attention like that, Uncle." I said quickly, smiling a bit when I saw Gandalf whack the Bert statue on the head.

"Tal!" Bilbo came running over from where he had just helped Bofur into his breeches. "Are you alright? Oh, your _hands_!"

"Hm? Oh, right." I looked down at my hands, seeing how they were covered in scratches and scrapes, my fingertips almost to the point of bleeding from how hard I had pulled on the rough fabric of the sack, all of my nails broken with blood and filth caked underneath. I shuddered to think of what must've been on the inside of those bags. "It's nothing. I'm surprised at how well _you_ did, though, for being such an awful liar."

He shook his head. "I feel so stupid. If I'd only thought to bring a knife with me so I wouldn't have had to try and steal one from the trolls, none of this would have happened."

"If I'd been better at persuasion, I could've given you one myself, so it's actually my fault, too." I smiled, ruffling his sandy hair and earning a cry of displeasure.

The hobbit looked taken aback. "What do you mean?"

I shook my head. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it, Bilbo."

* * *

I listened to the faint birdsong and tried to think of something pleasant as I covered my nose and mouth with my hand, eyes watering from the foul scent that crawled from the mouth of the cave Bifur and Dori had found about thirty paces from the clearing where we had almost become the trolls' supper. The stench made me think of the awful smell of troll's breath, only increasing my urge to vomit.

Nori seemed to sympathize. "Oh, what's that _stench_?"

"It's a troll hoard," Gandalf reminded him for all of our benefit, "be careful what you touch."

The pungent odor of troll made many of my kinsmen retch and cough alongside me, which honestly made me feel better. I quickly pushed all thoughts of how awful it smelled, however, at the sight of all of the treasure that lay within the seemingly endless tunnel.

I was conflicted. Stuff my pockets now and run the risk of smelling like troll, or leave it all here and be satisfied with what little non-troll gold I had?

As I stood in the middle of the tunnel, toeing at the jewels and gold that littered the cave floor while I thought, Fili and Kili dove right into the chests and caskets, gold pouring over the sides like water as they dug. Bofur, Nori and Gloin seemed to be in the same position as me.

"Seems a shame just to leave it lyin' around." Bofur pondered aloud. "Anyone could take it."

Gloin's eyes glittered merrily, even greedily. "Agreed. Nori, get a shovel."

I watched in bemusement as the three filled a modest-sized chest with gold and treasure. It was _not_ a bad idea, I had to admit. Lingering in this horribly-smelling place, however, was doing nothing for my nausea, and I left the glittering cave for the fresh air outside, perching on a boulder upwind from it.

I gulped the clean air with avarice, bent over with my elbows on my knees and my hands holding my hair back from my face as I struggled with my lurching stomach. Finally, now that I was alone, could I allow myself to fully accept the reality of my situation. I had lied to Dwalin back in Bilbo's wonderfully cozy and tidy hobbit-hole; I hadn't really thought about what I was getting myself into when I signed my name under Thorin's and Balin's. I'd thought of getting out from under my brother's eagle eyes and away from the forge and the same day-to-day cycle of things. I hadn't considered the fact that my arse would be sore and bruised from hours upon _hours_ of riding, that my back would lock up after laying so long on the ground. I hadn't taken into account that we could possibly become a pack of trolls' dinner, that I could literally be staring down a troll's _gullet_ thinking _No, not me, not yet!_.

My shoulders quaked as I laughed softly at myself, straightening a bit and pulling my hair over my shoulder so I could start braiding it. I couldn't even keep my _hair_ in order.

I jumped as a flash of something black and gold dropped directly in front of my face and settled in my lap, the chill of metal seeping through my breeches. I took up the knife in my hands, running my fingers over the engraved sheath it rested in. A royal seal was branded into the extravagant golden pommel. "Why do I…?"

"I'd appreciate it if you'd keep a hold of that for me." Fili plopped down on the edge of the crag beside me, mindful of the dual scabbard strapped to his back.

My heart flipped in my chest, blood warming a bit as it pumped harder through my veins. By Mahal, first his cloak, now his hunting knife?! "You can't be serious."

"Indeed I can," the golden dwarf laughed, raising a brow challengingly at me as he continued, "and besides, wasn't it _you_ who was so adamant about borrowing it?"

I blushed lightly, pursing my lips a bit. "That was when I needed it to help a member of the company."

"Perhaps the knife could still be of aid to you along the journey."

I shifted more to face him, worrying my lip between my teeth, as a thought occurred to me. "This isn't because of last night, is it?"

"_No_." He said a bit too quickly, not meeting my gaze. "Anyhow, it would please me and ease my mind to know that you had some other weapon on your person besides the sword at your hip and the fire in your eyes."

"You don't _need_ to worry about me, Fili."

His eyes met mine again as he smirked, bemused. "And yet I do. Now, if it's not too offensive to you, would you please equip my knife?"

"Alright!" I snapped, sliding the sheathed blade into my vambrace and making sure it was secure. "_There_, are you satisfied?"

"Yes, thank you." He smiled, honey-gold lashes dipping to shade his hazel eyes.

I opened my mouth to respond with a witty retort when the rest of our party burst from the troll tunnel, bristling with readied weapons and fierce expressions. Dwalin stepped between the nearby bushes and myself, ordering me to draw my sword, as there was an explosion from the bushes. "_Thieves! Fire! Murder!"_

**A/N: I really couldn't find a good place to end this chapter, so I'll just leave this here. Thank you very much for reading, and please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Hey guys, here's your update! Sorry about the wait; appendixes burst and medical complications happen. Real quick, I'd like to welcome the new followers/favorites and express vast lakes of gratitude towards my stellar reviewers: Marina Oakenshield, Dhalmi93, and Louise.98.**

I leapt back against Fili, pulling Dwalin with me as several large rabbits exploded from the underbrush, pulling with them a ramshackle sled. Within the sled was what I thought might be a man, though it was hard to tell, considering how there was lichen growing along the side of its face. I made as if to inspect the stranger and felt an arm wind around my waist, pulling me close. My heart clenched in my chest, and I didn't have to turn to know it was Fili, but I did to see the fierce snarl contorting his normally handsome face.

"Radagast the Brown!" Gandalf greeted warmly, stepping towards the confused-looking man swathed in brown. The Grey Wizard's face fell into a stern expression, making him seem like a tall thundercloud. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Gandalf! I was looking for you; something's terribly wrong!" The brown man—Radagast—shakily got off of his sled and approached the other wizard.

Gandalf eyed Radagast warily, leaning a bit away from him, and I noticed that I was the only one who'd let their weapon fall to their side. Surely no one thought this little, rodent-like man was a serious threat! "Yes?"

Radagast opened his mouth to speak and paused, looking thoughtful. He perked up a bit before lapsing into befuddled silence again, and I shared a glance with Fili. _I don't believe this little plant-man is quite in his right mind,_ I tried to convey silently, watching the golden dwarf's face shift into confused concern.

He seemed to be thinking the same thing.

"Oh, I had a thought, but I've lost it!" the smaller wizard groaned in frustration. "It's right there, on the tip of my tongue!"

"I don't think that a thought is all he's lost." Fili murmured almost inaudibly into my ear, the feeling of his lips against my skin making me shiver as I nodded my agreement.

The Brown Wizard stiffened, standing straight, as an odd expression flitted across his face. "Oh, it's not a thought at all. It's a silly old," he paused as Gandalf pulled what looked like a twig from the other wizard's tongue, earning a grimace from me, "stick insect!"

Across the way, Bilbo looked a bit ill.

Gandalf gave us all a tight smile. "Why don't you all rest a bit more before we set off? Radagast, come this way and we'll talk." The lichen-faced wizard shuffled after him, the two stopping only after they were quite a ways down the ridge from the rest of us. After a moment of standing around, baffled, we dispersed to check on and gather our belongings from where we'd left them at our old campsite. Some of our ponies had fled in the battle with the trolls, leaving us with only the thirteen we could find grazing throughout the forest. At my uncles' (and Fili's) urging, I swapped my sword belt for a scabbard that strapped to my back, acknowledging to their pleasure that it was much easier to move about without my sword whacking against my legs.

I sat down on a rocky shelf as we waited for Gandalf to finish his conversation with the odd wizard, re-braiding my hair and watching as the others paced impatiently. From my position on the rise, I could see Dwalin and Thorin talking not far from the two wizards, Bombur using his loop of a beard as a kerchief to wipe his forehead, and Fili and Kili having a contest of who could throw a stone the farthest. A breeze rustled through the trees, cooling the back of my neck as I intertwined the braids together in one large plait, securing it with clasps of engraved iron. There, I thought_, that should keep—_

A loud howl tore through the copse of trees, startling everyone.

"W-was that a wolf?" Bilbo asked nervously. "Are there- are there wolves out there?"

Bofur shook his head, eyes wide, and I rose from my makeshift seat, hand moving to the sword at my back, fingers curling around the hilt. "Wolves? No, that is not a wolf."

I heard the faintest growl, shivers racing from the base of my spine to my skull. I turned to look up the rise and felt my eyes widen as I found myself staring into the glinting eyes of a Warg that had slinked around a crag in our group's direction. Thick branches snapped under its paws like twigs, drawing the others' attention, who let out grunts and yells of shock as it bore down on us. I leapt to the side before it could crash into me, feeling as well as hearing the beast's sharp claws whistle past my head. I landed hard on my side on the ground, my head scraping against a rock as I struggled to get up from a tangle of tree roots. Thorin brought his large blade down on the Warg's head, blood spattering dangerously close to my hand as I clambered to my feet, ears ringing faintly.

Another fearsome growl erupted from the other rise, and I turned to see Kili fire an arrow at a second Warg, hitting it in the shoulder. The monstrous creature tumbled under a leaning tree but got back up—only to have its skull crushed by Dwalin's axe.

"_Warg_-_scouts_." Thorin snarled, pulling his sword free of his latest kill. "Which means an orc pack is not far behind."

Bilbo sounded as though he had about reached his limits. "_Orc pack?!"_

"Who did you tell of this quest, beyond your kin?!" Gandalf thundered.

Thorin glowered at the wizard. "No one."

"_Who did you tell?"_

"No one, I swear it!" Thorin snapped, taking a step forward. "What in Durin's name is going on?"

Gandalf took a breath, as though collecting his wits. "You are being hunted."

"We have to get out of here!" Dwalin growled, shifting his weight uneasily.

Ori and Bifur came spilling through the foliage. "We can't! We have no ponies!" Ori all but wailed, more growls audible in the distance. "They bolted!"

Foolish as it was, I felt my heart clench at the thought of Lily being torn apart by Wargs. I hoped the sweet girl made it to safety.

Radagast looked surprisingly serious, even contemplative. "I'll draw them off."

I blinked, surprised at the wizard's bravery and self-sacrifice. He'd probably die, but the rest of the company would survive. Even as I was seeing the possibilities of the wizard's offer, Gandalf shook his head. "These are Gundabag Wargs; they will outrun you!"

"_These_ are Rhosgobel Rabbits!" Radagast replied, looking sly and ridiculously proud of his large rodents. "I'd like to see them try."

"He's certifiably mad." The words slipped from my lips before I was aware I'd said them.

"_Tal!_" Balin chided, frowning at me as we all prepared to flee.

I checked the straps securing my small bag closed and to my person. "He _is_."

More howls, this time closer, made my hands shake as we filed into a rough line, Dwalin shoving me in front of him so I was pinned between him and Fili, the better for him to keep his eyes on us and Kili. Radagast soared by on his sled, exploding from our cover.

Snarls and sepulchral barks could be heard as the Wargs pursued the mad wizard, who was actually _taunting_ the orcs. "Come and get me! Ha ha!"

_What a lunatic. _Respect welled up within me for Radagast's brazen acts, even as I was shoved forward, eyes focused on the ground and the back of Fili's head. The ground was uneven and covered with aged, almost knotted grasses and underbrush. I followed Fili's lead, hopping over half-buried boulders as we stuck to the taller rock formations to keep from being seen.

As we rounded about one of the larger formations, Radagast raced by several paces in front of us, the orc pack hot on his tail. We all froze in place, breathing heavily, before Gandalf did an about-face, ordering, "Stay together!"

"Move!" Thorin bellowed, ushering us after Gandalf with his sword.

My side burned from the exertion, lungs aching as we continued to run, my braid getting tugged by my scabbard every time my sword thudded painfully against my spine. I stumbled on a particularly well-hidden stone, pitching forward only to be pulled back to my feet by Fili and Bifur. We pulled to a stop behind another humongous formation, Thorin ripping Ori back behind our cover before he could race ahead. _How on earth did Ori get all the way up there?_ I wondered, struggling to catch my breath.

Gandalf peered around the dark rock, waving us forward. "Come on, quick!" he whispered anxiously.

Dwalin prodded me forward, and I barely resisted a groan as I straightened up, chasing after Fili once more. We ran over the grassland between two hills, hurrying to cluster along the edge of one stone-armored mound as the sound of growls and snapping teeth grew nearer, breathing thinly to make as little sound as possible. I leaned my head away from the axe embedded in Bifur's skull, watching as Thorin motioned his head at Kili's bow. I clenched my hands into fists to keep them from wrapping around Fili's arm, scowling at myself. I was a proud, strong she-dwarf capable of holding my own; I didn't need to turn into some insipid pansy-girl just because my heart reacted funnily to Fili's proximity and fear.

Kili took a deep breath, steadying himself, before stepping away from the hillside we were all flattened against and firing an arrow at the Warg that was all but on top of us. The first arrow didn't bring down the Warg, nor did the second, third or fourth. The huge mongrel finally fell down in front of us with its rider, the beast's pained roars echoing all around us. Even as Dwalin killed the orc and a number of the others finished off the Warg, I felt a dark chill trickle down my spine. There was no way that the other orcs hadn't heard that. They would be upon us in moments.

Gandalf must've realized the same, as he turned to us, giving up all sense of secrecy as he thundered, "MOVE! _RUN_!"

Breathing thinly, I ran as fast as I could, trying to ignore the searing pain in my calves and the glimpses of Wargs and Warg-riders I caught in my peripheral vision. I kept my gaze focused on Fili's scabbard as we ran, not even pausing when Gloin called out to us. "There they are!"

"This way!" Gandalf ordered several paces ahead. "Quickly!"

My vision narrowed, like looking through a dark tunnel. Still running, I struggled to pull Fili's hunting knife from my vambrace, knowing I was too tired to wield my sword. My hands were shaking from exertion. I'd just pulled it free when we came into a clearing, seeing that the entire area was surrounded by Warg-riders.

"There's more coming!" Kili yelled, backing towards where we collected by the large boulder in the center of the clearing.

Thorin roared in response, "Kili! Shoot them!"

I looked at our leader with something close to incredulity. After Kili's last performance, surely he didn't think Kili could take out all of these Wargs and their riders.

"We're surrounded!" Fili reported, drawing his falchions. Kili shot a Warg-rider that had come too close, and I couldn't help but wish he had shot that well back at the hill.

I switched Fili's knife to my left hand as I drew my sword with my right, feeling the muscles in my arms clench and burn with anxiety and adrenaline as I fell into a battle stance. A mental image rose up of my body, mangled and half-chewed by a Warg among the weeds and grasses beneath my feet, and I immediately shut the thought down. I refused to let Fal wonder what had happened to me, to our uncles, to have him fall into despair or—even worse—try to come and find us, grieving.

I turned my head slightly and saw Fili staring at me, an unreadable expression in his eyes. My chest clenched at the thought of his death, but I shoved the thoughts and emotions away before I could delve too deep into them. I amended my previous thoughts: I refused to let _any_ of us die today, if I could help it.

"Where is Gandalf?!" Kili asked, tension filling his voice.

A quick look around showed the wizard had indeed vanished. Had he decided we were a lost cause and fled? I exchanged a glance with Dwalin, my fear increasing as I noticed how tense he was. "He has abandoned us!" he spat, tattooed head gleaming with sweat.

The orc pack tightened their circle around us, driving us closer to the enormous boulder. I jumped as a rock came flying out of nowhere, hitting an advancing Warg in the head, and turned to see Ori slowly lowering his slingshot, hands shaking.

I looked to my right as Thorin drew his sword, the metal gleaming pale and silvery in the sunlight. "Stand your ground!"

The Wargs crept closer, the wind carrying their reeking stench. I tightened my grip on my blades.

"_This way, you fools!"_

I whirled around, turning my back completely to the enemy (for which Fal would've tanned my hide). Gandalf stood within a crack in the rock, motioning us over. We all paused for a breath that felt like an eternity. He hadn't abandoned us, after all!

"Come on, _move_!" Thorin ordered, herding us all towards where the wizard had disappeared once more. One after another we jumped into the sloping entrance, sliding down the rock face into the earth. "Quickly, all of you! Go, go, go!"

I ducked to avoid the swing of Thorin's sword as he slashed at a Warg, falling to the ground and rolling into the crevasse. I landed hard against Bombur, who had been struggling to his feet and whom I had almost eviscerated with my drawn sword. I quickly sheathed the blade, keeping Fili's knife out just in case. Balin squeezed my bicep with a relieved smile, and I grinned back as Dwalin clapped me on the back. I knew we were far from being safe, but at least we had prolonged our lives for a bit longer.

I squinted up at the mouth of the rift in the earth as Gandalf counted us off, my tight chest loosening when Fili came sliding down the rough stone ramp. I had to bite my cheek against the irritation of how ridiculously dashing he looked and how effortless he made getting down here seem compared to my graceless rolling. Then I saw his eyes light up when our gazes met, and my irritation faded. I offered him a smile, which he returned with a lopsided grin.

Thorin and Kili slid down last. No sooner had they settled in amongst our ranks, a horn blared through the clearing above. The horn's blast bled into grunts, howls and the sounds of battle. I felt my ears straining to make any sense of the cacophony, rolling Fili's knife from one hand to another.

A grunt-like scream was all the warning we received before an orc tumbled into the rift. Bilbo was all but on top of me as we all backpedaled in a wave of beards and armor, the orc rolling to a stop where we had all been moments before. We waited for it to get up for a moment, surrounding it with our weapons drawn.

Thorin plucked the arrow from its chest, examining its make. "_Elves_."

I saw Dwalin move out of the corner of my eye, turning to watch him peer down the pathway I hadn't even realized was at the back of the cave. "I cannot see where the pathway leads!" He yelled to Thorin, shifting his weight impatiently. "Do we follow it or no?"

_It's not as though we really have a choice,_ I thought drily even as Bofur pushed past me, the flaps on his hat practically quivering with his excitement. "Follow it, of course!"

"I think that would be wise." Gandalf sounded content, though I couldn't see him as I was propelled along the rocky path. It was a tight squeeze, especially between Gloin and Bofur, and I had to mind my step due to the water that flowed along the rock every now and then. I thought I heard a waterfall somewhere nearby, its roar growing louder the further we went.

Oin moved off with the others as I emerged from the crack in the rock, stepping out onto the water-coated shelf. _That explains the waterfalls I heard, though I didn't think there'd be quite so many._

"The Valley of Imraldis." Gandalf intoned, stepping out onto the shelf. "In the Common Tongue, it's known by another name."

"Rivendell." Bilbo whispered with something almost akin to reverence.

Gandalf moved along the path away from the shelf. "Here lies the last Homely House east of the sea."

"It's pretty, in its own way." I thought aloud, sheathing Fili's knife in my vambrace. It was a wonder I hadn't stabbed the others—or myself—with it so far.

"Aye, if you can ignore the fact that it is home to pompous, pointy-eared pretty folk." Fili rumbled, practically glaring at the palatial city.

I let out a derisive snort, rolling my eyes. "You're prettier than they are."

Fili looked taken aback, his jaw slack. "What?"

"What?" My face felt on fire. _Dear Mahal ,save me from my own stupidity!_

"Forward!" Thorin bellowed, saving myself and Fili from any further awkwardness. "We need to keep moving if we don't want to lose the light."

"Tal, wait!" Even as he reached out to grab my arm, I fled towards the front of the line.

Bilbo peered up curiously at me as we all filed along, his brow pinched with worry. "Tal, are you alright? You look a bit feverish."

"I'm fine, really." I smiled, hands clenched into tight fists at my sides. _Stupid golden-boy dwarf with his stupid eyes and smile—_

Bilbo didn't seem to believe me, breaking out his handkerchief and making as though to try and fuss at me. "Are you sure?"

"_Yes_, Bilbo! I assure you, I'm perfectly well, _thank you_!" I snapped, slapping his hand away lightly. The hobbit looked a little wounded as he tucked the kerchief back into his pocket, drawing a sigh from me. "I'm sorry, Bilbo."

He brushed aside my apology, giving me a tight smile. "It's alright, we've all had a rough day. Hopefully we'll be able to get a bit of peace here."

Not wanting to dash the halfling's hopes, I kept my own pessimistic thoughts to myself as we got closer to the Elves' city.

We crossed over an engraved stone bridge into a courtyard, huddling together at its center. The quiet of the place unsettled me; where were the sounds of trade and chatter, or for that matter any inhabitants? It was as though the place was deserted.

"Is it always this quiet?" I asked Balin, edging closer to him as he checked over his possessions.

He smiled warmly at me, straightening. "Probably, lass."

"It's disturbing, like a tomb."

"Aye, 'tis true, but seeing as they are our apparent hosts, it would do well to _not_ insult them." Balin murmured conspiratorially, giving me a wink before turning to speak with Gloin.

I bit my cheek, crossing my arms over my chest as I paced a bit away. My legs ached from all the running we'd done today, my back felt tight and raw. If there was any good left in this world, then Bilbo's hopes would come true.

A tall, dark-haired elf descended the staircase opposite the bridge. "_Mithrandir_,"

"Ah, Lindir! Gandalf greeted, moving towards the elf. My kinsmen grumbled amongst themselves, and I eyed the elf with distrust as he began speaking in Elvish. I shifted my weight from one foot to another, the movement causing me to bump into someone.

The scents of mountain pine and sunlight teased my nose. Fili.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond." Gandalf told what I assumed was the steward for this place.

"My lord Elrond is not here." Lindir replied simply.

Gandalf seemed confused and mildly frustrated. "Not here? Where is he?"

A familiar-sounding horn chose that moment to sound through the courtyard, and I turned with the others to see several elves on horseback riding towards us, armor glinting in the evening light.

"_Ifridî bekâr_!" Thorin ordered—_Ready weapons!_ "Hold ranks!"

Fighting back a sigh, I drew my sword and fell in between Bilbo and Fili, shoving the hobbit behind me as the riders began to circle our group, causing us to tighten our ranks. The elves paced around us, manes and banners swirling in their dizzying display. Finally they slowed to a halt, their eyes glinting at us from within the depths of their helmets. They reminded me of serpents leering from the dark, or of the dragons in the stories Fal used to tell me.

An elf in red armor addressed our wizard. "Gandalf."

Gandalf's face warmed with mirth as he swooped in a low bow, straightening to his full height and greeting the elf. "Lord Elrond! _Mellonnen_! _Mo evínedh?"_

_No, not this again. I don't like not being able to understand._ I thought in frustration.

"_Farannem 'lamhoth i udul o charad. Dagannem rim na lant Vedui."_ The red-clad elf lord dismounted, embracing Gandalf.

"Strange," Elrond continued, holding aloft an Orcish sword as though to admire it, "for orcs to come so close to our borders. Something, or someone, has drawn them near." He passed the sword off to Lindir before turning to face us once more.

"Ah, that may have been us." Gandalf admitted, grinding his staff a bit into the stone underneath our feet.

I let the point of my sword rest against the stone floor, rolling my shoulders back to work out some of the kinks as the others became more relaxed around me, spreading out but not quite breaking ranks. Thorin stepped forward, Dwalin just a step behind him.

Elrond's eyes sparked with recognition. "Welcome Thorin, son of Thrain."

"I do not believe we have met." Thorin remarked, crossing his arms over his formidable chest, his sword back in its scabbard.

"You have your grandfather's bearing." The elf lord explained. "I knew Thror when he ruled under the mountain."

"Indeed, he made no mention of _you_."

I watched as Elrond take a deep, calming breath before responding. "_Nartho i noer, toltho i viruvor. Boe i annam vann a nethail vin."_

"What is he saying!?" Gloin bellowed, speaking our collective thought. "Does he offer us insult?"

"No, Master Gloin, he's offering you _food_." Gandalf all but chuckled at our expense.

There was a brief, barely a breath of a pause, before we fell into discussion.

I turned to huddle with Fili, Kili, and Bilbo.

"They have food." I began, my eagerness leaking into my voice.

Fili shook his golden head. "I don't like this. Food or no, we should get back to the quest."

"Since they killed the orcs, there'll be no one to hunt us." Kili continued, picking up on his brother's thought. "We could get much farther, and we could always hunt for something as soon as we leave."

I glared at him, making the young prince blanch. "I don't _want_ to have to hunt later if they're offering food _now_. Be reasonable; they're offering us free food, probably a place to rest as well. Doesn't that sound nice, Bilbo?"

My appeal to the hobbit worked; the poor thing looked exhausted as he nodded his curly head. "Goodness, yes. I've had quite enough excitement for one day."

I beamed down at the halfling, ignoring the feeling that Fili was trying to burn a hole in the back of my head. I kept my back to the golden dwarf as we turned to Elrond.

Gloin cleared his throat. "Ah well, in that case, lead on."

**A/N: I'm going to stop right here because otherwise the chapter will get ridiculously long. Thanks for reading, and I'll try to get the next chapter out as soon as I can! Please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Update time! Welcome to my new favorites/followers, and thank you SO MUCH to my reviewers Marina Oakenshield, Jarvis68, Dalonega Noquisi, and Boston Rider.**

An elf-maid guided me away from the others to an airy guest space, the large room decorated with several candelabrums, a bed that looked almost _decadent_ after sleeping on a pallet in the dirt, and stone carved in delicate filigree. The setting sun shone through several archways and bathed the room in a glow like firelight, the breeze carrying the scents of the sea. I grimaced at the sight of the statue that loomed over the headboard—who would want a stone woman staring at them as they slept?

"You may leave your belongings here and refresh for dinner." The elf-maid supplied when I simply stood awkwardly in the middle of the room.

I eyed her warily as she began to move about the room, straightening things that didn't seem out of place and glancing at me from the corner of her eye. I removed my scabbard and small pack, tossing them onto the bed. I could practically feel the curiosity coming off in waves from her, and turned to her with a sigh as I unclasped my cloak. "Something you'd like to say? A question, perhaps?"

"You're a female dwarf, aren't you?"

The cloak joined my sword and pack on the bed. "Aye."

"Astounding!" She breathed. "You're a rare occurrence, are you not? You look much different than I'd imagined—you've no beard."

I inhaled sharply through my nose as I shoved Fili's knife in my bag, fumbling with my vambraces to get them off. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. "I'm _very_ aware of that, thank you."

She averted her eyes, looking to the Lady of the Headboard. "Forgive me; I meant no insult."

"Of course you didn't." I said stiffly, setting aside the vambraces and finally shrugging out of my coat. It was surprisingly warm in this elf valley, accompanied by a cool breeze just enough to chill my lungs.

"Is that…_common_, for females of your race?"

I let out a huff, blowing a loose curl from my eyes. "No, it's not. By Mahal, you're an inquisitive one, aren't you?!"

"Your pardon." Long ebony hair fell forward to hide the elf-maid's embarrassed face.

I shook my head with a scowl. Elves were so _odd_. "Which way to the dining hall?"

"Right this way." The she-elf turned and all but floated from the room, leaving me to follow behind.

A number of my kinsmen were already seated at low tables when we entered the hall, musicians taking their places by the head table. We all looked tired and apprehensive, which we were, except for Bombur, who looked all that and like he was ready to lean over and take a bite out of Dori. I saw Dwalin speaking with Balin, Oin and Nori at the table on the other side of the room and made my way over, flopping down into the seat at Balin's left. The sensation of finally resting, getting my weight off my feet, was amazing.

Balin chuckled, handing me a glass of wine. "Here lass, have a sip of this."

I sniffed the glass' contents suspiciously, wary, and was greeted with the scents of rich spices and fruits. Suddenly overwhelmed by thirst, I took a deep pull from the glass, the spiced wine sending warmth searing down my throat to pool in my belly. It wasn't ale, but it definitely wasn't bad. Now all I needed was food.

I sipped lightly at the heady liquid as I watched the few stragglers file in and claim their own cushions, Bofur claiming the seat in front of me and Kili taking the seat beside him. Fili inclined his head in my direction, making as if to come sit with me just as Bilbo took the last seat beside me. He pursed his lips in a frown, looking like he was about to come after the unsuspecting hobbit when Gloin called him into a conversation. He laughed richly at whatever Gloin was going on about, taking the seat at the edge of the table so he was sitting on the other side of Bilbo.

"Oh, it feels _so_ good to rest for a while." The hobbit sighed, working at a kink in his shoulder.

"Care for some wine, Bilbo?" I offered, nodding my head towards the numerous bottles that rested on the golden tablecloth. "It's actually not too bad."

The Burglar made a face. "Maybe just a bit."

Setting my own glass down, I reached for an empty one and a bottle, the dark liquid glimmering ruby in the rays of the sun. "Alright, tell me when."

I poured the wine slowly, giving him ample time. I glanced up just in time to catch Fili glaring at Bilbo. His gaze lightened as it met mine, the intensity of it making me jump. The motion made me splash some of the wine onto my sleeve, drawing a whispered curse from my lips as I handed the glass to Bilbo. "Sorry, sorry!"

"You're fine, but your shirt will stain." The hobbit scowled, taking his napkin and dabbing at the dark spot on my arm. I could feel the linen trying to stick to my skin.

I let out a sigh, the sound drowned out by the musicians as they began playing. "It's no use, but thank you." I gave him a half-smile, pulling my arm away as wooden bowls were placed in front of us. I perked up at the thought of food, but one look at the bowl's contents turned my mood dark. I glowered at the green things, peering at it from different angles and sifting through it with my knife. "What on _earth_ is this?"

Dwalin pawed at his own bowl of leaves, unwittingly flicking an onion in Oin's direction. "Where's the meat?"

Oin stabbed the onion with his knife, holding it at eye level and grimacing in disgust.

"_Surely_ this is just the first course," I laughed humorlessly, taking a drink of wine, "right?"

Bilbo gave me a pitying glance and said nothing, handing me a roll from a platter at the table's center.

To try and distract myself from the offensive vegetables I cast my glance about the dining hall, settling my gaze on the dark-haired prince. Kili stared at the she-elf playing a harp with an odd expression.

"What do you think's wrong with him?" I whispered to Balin, jerking my chin at the young prince. Dwalin and I stared at him openly, Bofur even leaning over to peer at him just as he winked at her, offering a sly smile.

When Kili turned back to my tattooed uncle, the smile fell away. _Caught._ "Can't say I fancy elf-maids myself. Too thin." He paused, reaching for a roll himself. "They're all _high_ _cheekbones_ and _creamy_ _skin_."

"Really?" I chuckled, refilling my glass and taking a drink. "Because it sounds as though you do."

The tips of Kili's ears seemed rosier than they had been a moment ago. "I don't. They've too little facial hair for my taste—though, that one there's not bad." He sniffed, flicking his gaze to an elf as they rounded the table.

"That's not an elf-maid." Dwalin's deep voice was low enough that I had to strain to hear him, but Kili flushed when the elf turned, revealing his slightly-masculine features. The table burst into laughter, the other table echoing the sound.

I'd have joined in the laughter as well, were it not for Kili's last statement. I wasn't sure if he'd meant it as a jab or not, but I felt the sting of it nonetheless. Did Fili feel that my lack of a beard was repulsive? At the thought I took another gulp of wine, draining my glass, and reached for the bottle once more.

Bilbo eyed me with concern as I filled my glass. "Is everything aright, Tal?"

"Hmm? Yes, yes," I said distractedly, reaching for one of the honeyed cakes stacked high at the table's center, "why do you ask?"

"You just seem kind of…off."

"I'm grand, really!" I gave him a warm smile, taking a bite from the cake. It tasted of berries and left my fingers sticky with the excess glazing. I turned my attention to the seemingly intense conversation just behind us.

Elrond was speaking. "—sword of the King of Gondolin. These swords were made for the goblin wars of the First Age."

I looked as Bilbo moved in my peripheral, turning to see him eyeing his 'sword'. Apparently I wasn't the only one who'd noticed; Balin spoke up from beside me. "I wouldn't bother, laddie. Swords are named for their great deeds they do in war."

"What, are you saying my sword hasn't seen battle?" Bilbo asked, his brow pinched.

Balin gave him a half-smile. "I'm not actually sure it _is_ a sword. It's more of a letter-opener, really."

The hobbit looked crestfallen, putting his sword/letter-opener away and taking a sip of his wine.

I slapped him on the back, nearly sending him into a fit. "Cheer up, Bilbo! Have a cake or something."

"Perhaps once I remember how to _breathe_." He choked out, banging his fist against his chest.

As he calmed down, I turned my glass this way and that in the light, eyeing it appreciatively as the light played over the gold and copper that decorated it.

Nori toyed with a salt shaker, looking it over and assessing it before tucking it into his tunic, to which I turned a blind eye. Not like the elves couldn't afford it. I thought about keeping my wine glass, but quickly shoved the idea away. I would have to find some way to sneak it into my belongings, and besides it would just shatter in my bag.

I took another sip, feeling my eyelids droop. Between all of the running this morning, the dreadful music, and the wonderful wine, I was about ready to go to sleep. Thorin had crossed to the other side of the room, taking a swig from what I thought might be a flask, but my vision was starting to blur a bit as sleep tried to fill my eyes.

Nori suddenly twisted in his seat, scowling at the elf-maid at the harp. "Change the tune, why don't you? I feel like I'm at a funeral!"

"Is somebody dying?" Oin asked, confused, and looked about in concern.

Bofur slammed his palms down on the tabletop, rising slowly. "Alright, now, there's only one thing for it!" He kicked aside a number of plates and glasses to clink and clatter to the floor, rolls and potatoes rolling about as he stepped from the table to stand atop a short pedestal between our tables. Taking a deep breath he began singing.

"_There's an inn,  
There's an inn  
There's a merry old inn  
Beneath the old grey hill!"_

Our company's mood lifted significantly, all of us taking up the familiar tune and beating on the table. Even Thorin perked up, dancing a bit of a jig.

"_And there they brew a beer so brown  
The Man in the Moon himself came down  
One night to drink his fill!_

_Oh the ostler has a tipsy cat_  
_That plays a five-string fiddle!_  
_And up and down he sawed his bow_  
_Now squeaking high, now purring low!_  
_Now sawing in the middle!_

_So the cat and the fiddle_  
_Played hey-diddle-diddle_  
_A tune that'd wake the dead!_  
_He squeaked and he sawed_  
_And he quickened his tune_  
_And the landlord shook the Man in the Moon_  
_'It's after three!' he said!"_

The song cut to an end as we all broke into fits of laughter, food raining down around my head as Bifur threw our salads up in the air. Cakes, cheeses, buttered rolls, and fruits were flung as well, much to the dismay of Bilbo and our elf hosts.

"Very well done, Bofur!" I grinned as he took a bow, jumping down from the pedestal.

"Indeed." Elrond chuckled drily from somewhere behind me, his chair groaning across the floor. "I think that I've had enough excitement for one evening, but please enjoy yourselves. Gandalf, if you'd care to join me."

The wizard chuckled as he rose, the two striding from the hall with Lindir hot on their tail. I chortled a bit as the elf musicians hurried after them as well.

Once they had cleared out, Kili leaned across the table with a mischievous grin on his face. "I don't know about you all, but I saw an enormous fountain by one of the falls on our way in here that looked _perfect_ for swimming."

"_There's_ an idea!" Bofur grinned conspiratorially, raising his voice to address the others. "What say you, lads? Care for a swim?"

"_Aye_!" They cheered, struggling up from their cushions on the floor.

I looked to Bilbo as he stood as well, massaging his backside. "Are you sure you want to be doing that, Bilbo? They tend to play a bit rough."

"Heavens, no!" He laughed. "Oh, no no no. I'm just going to take a stroll around, see what there is to see. Would you like to join me?"

_That rhymed._ I thought through the warm, buzzed haze in my brain from the wine. "No, thanks. I think I'll just go find a nice place to take a nap while I can." I used the tabletop as a support and got to my feet, grabbing a half-full bottle of the mulled wine on my way out. "You have fun, though!"

I wandered down the sunlit hall, taking the occasional sip from my bottle as I passed through high archways and followed curving, leaf-strewn paths. Only when I'd passed the same staircase three times did I realize I was completely lost and nowhere near my guest room. Muttering a curse under my breath I took another swig, feeling the heat of the alcohol pulse through my veins. _Well, since I've passed by it so many times, I might as well see what's up there._

I made my way up the stairs, arriving at a heavily curtained pavilion that was tucked away almost into the cliff-side. Casting a quick glance around the area to make sure no one was around, I used my free hand to pull aside the thick, gauzy fabric and peeked in. The view took my breath away; ivy and vines stretched the distance to the carved railing, mingling with the delicate-looking stone. Thin waterfalls trickled down the cliff face, creating a serene atmosphere. The pavilion housed a sunken pool, white marble steps leading down into its depths, the area encased in the rippling curtains.

"I see you've found one of my favorite places in all of Rivendell."

I turned with a sharp gasp to see the same she-elf that had shown me to the guest room earlier, her emerald dress vibrant in the evening sun. In her hands she held my pack.

I eyed her suspiciously. "What is this place?"

"It is a bathing pool." She smiled, her pale blue eyes serene. "One that very few people remember, let alone find while trying to get back to their rooms."

I blushed from both the wine and embarrassment, opting to say nothing.

Her laugh was quiet, even in the empty space. "I brought you your things, should you decide to linger here for a while." She held out the pack to me and I took it, setting it carefully on the floor as she started to walk away in that eerily quiet way they do.

When she disappeared around the edge of a building I slid the curtain closed, blocking out the outside world, and got to work undressing myself until I stood in my undergarments. I unclasped the little iron clip at the end of my plait, releasing my hair to unwind as it pleased. The marble was cool under my bare feet as I padded over to the pool, letting out a sound of delight at the surprising warmth of the water as I tested it with one hand. I straightened to my full height and jumped in, submerging myself fully in one large splash. I kicked back up to the surface, gasping for air before breaking into a fit of giggles, like I was a little girl again. I closed my eyes, contented, and simply floated. The warm water eased my aching muscles and joints, leeching the tension out of my body. That was more than likely the result of some kind of elf magic, but right then it felt so good I couldn't care less.

I swam back towards the shallower end of the small pool, working to unravel my braids so that I could get as much filth as possible from my hair, considering how this was probably the last bath I would have for a while. Taking a deep breath I dipped back down under the surface of the water, shaking my head to make my hair swirl around me. I scrubbed at my hair as I held my breath until my lungs screamed for air and I had to go back up, my hair a heavy curtain down my back and in front of my face.

I flipped my water-soaked tresses back from my face, wiping the water from my eyes. When I opened my eyes I saw how wrinkled my fingertips were, how the sky had deepened to a rich sapphire, and decided I had probably spent enough time in the hidden pool. I carefully stepped out of it, using my stained shirt to wipe off the excess water from my body. I pulled on my mithril shirt, sliding a forest-green tunic on over it.

I was reaching for my breeches when a sharp intake of breath alerted me to an intruder. My hand passed by my breeches in favor of Fili's knife. Gripping the cold blade in my fingertips I whirled around, sending the knife—sheath and all—flying towards the intruder. The momentum caused me to slip backwards onto my backside with a shriek, allowing me a view of Fili catching his own knife before it could hit him in the eye.

The elder prince cast me a wry smirk. "Good to see that my knife is getting some use."

"What in Durin's name do you think you're _doing_, Fili?!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you!" The golden dwarf rushed forward, tossing the knife at my pack and taking my hands in his to help me to my feet.

I gave him an incredulous look, holding the hem of my tunic down around my thighs. "How could you _not_ frighten me?! You were just _lurking_ and—how long _were_ you there?!"

"I swear I only just got here." His slate and tawny eyes begged for me to believe him. "I just—I needed to see you, to talk to you, privately."

"And you couldn't have waited until I came out, or at least had pants on?"His gaze dropped to sweep over my legs, warming the longer he stared until I punched him in the arm. "What did you need to say to me?"

His eyes swept back to mine, gleaming at me through his honey-colored eyelashes, and I was reminded of the way he'd looked at me back in the dining hall. A shiver went down my spine when he flicked a glimpse at my lips. "You've been haunting my dreams of late, Tal."

My heart flipped a bit, splashing blood up into my cheeks in a heated blush. "Is that meant to be flattery? You make me sound like a nightmare."

"No, no! That's not what I meant." He sighed, taking the hand I'd punched him with between both of his. "What I mean to say is…you enchant me _and_ scare me. The way you're so kind to the halfling, or the way you cursed that troll when he _dared_ to try to eat you, or even just the way you laugh, all of it drives me absolutely _mad_."

My face felt hot, like I had leaned too close to the fires of my brother's forge. "Fili, I—,"

"And when we got cornered by the orc pack," he continued, shaking his head, his wet hair glowing ocher in the moonlight, "there was this flash of fear on your face, and then you looked over at me—at all of us—and you just hardened with resolve. You're so strong, and I admire you for that, but what's best is that you're strong in so many ways. You're strong-willed, physically strong, mentally."

"You're embarrassing me." I grumbled, trying to tug my hand away from his. "I think what you're saying is lovely, really, but I fail to see why this couldn't wait a bit longer to be said."

He let out a groan of frustration. "By Mahal's forge, Tal! Would you let me speak my piece?!" Releasing my hand, he switched his hold for my face, pulling me close and kissing me hard. Heat that made the wine seem like ice in comparison coursed through my veins as one of his arms snaked around my waist, yanking me forward so I was flush against him. My body developed its own free will, wrapping my arms around his neck and delving my fingers into his hair.

Oh.

_Oh_.

And it all made sense in a rush: the cloak-lending, the smiles, why he made Kili leave with him to go get his knives and why he glared at Bilbo for taking the seat next to me, his over-protectiveness.

We broke the kiss, our breathing ragged, and one corner of his mouth lifted in a lop-sided grin. "Forgive me. I meant to ask to court you first, but you turn my blood to fire."

"Oh, shut it." I rolled my eyes, unable to keep the smile entirely off my face. Between the wine and that kiss, I was positively giddy. "Get out so I can finish getting dressed."

Fili tucked a strand of my wet hair behind my ear, kissing my temple. "As you say, _ghivâshel_."

My heart did that stupid flutter thing so hard I thought it would break free as he slipped out, his silhouette visible against the fog-like curtain. Giving myself a shake, I located my breeches, pulling them on as well as a fresh pair of socks and my boots. I picked up my bag and iron clasp from the floor and took a moment to pause for a deep, calming breath to try to get my heart to stop trying to fly out of my chest.

Fili chuckled at me as I stepped out from the pavilion, making me scowl. "What is it?"

"It's nothing really, just—you hair…." He let it trail off, his fingers catching on the numerous tangles as he tried to run his fingers through my hair. I blushed furiously, fiddling with the little clip. "Here, come over here and let me help you."

"You don't have to do that." I mumbled stubbornly. "I can braid my own hair just fine."

His lips twitched as he fought back a grin. "Your 'braids' tend to look like tangled knots. Besides, I _want_ to braid it. Please?"

I relinquished with a sigh, and he perched on the top step, motioning for me to sit on the step below him. I eased myself down in front of him, looking over the sparkling bay as Fili combed my hair with his fingers. A faint tugging at my scalp let me know when he started braiding, and my eyes drifted closed at the wonderful feeling. It reminded me of all the times Fal had braided my hair for me because my braids were so atrocious and he didn't want my hair to fall in the forge, or when my mother would just brush and brush my hair until I eventually—

Something hard pressed against the back of my head as I shifted, eyes fluttering open slowly. Yawning, I tilted my head back and found myself staring into a smiling pair of grey eyes. I let out a yelp as Fili caught me before I could really fall down the stairs, his rich laugh ringing out around us. "Were you _really_ asleep?"

"I think so." I admitted.

"You know, sleeping on me could be considered a sign of trust—ow!"He flinched back as I punched his shoulder, expression jovial. "You're done, by the way." He held out his hand, and I dropped my clasp in his open palm, hearing the familiar _csh_-_click_ as it secured around my hair.

I ran my hands along my hair, feeling for what he had done. Two side braids pulled my hair away from my face, merging into one complex plait in the back. The rest of my hair hung loose and free down my back and shoulders, making me frown in confusion. "I think you forgot a few strands." I said drily, smirking up at him as he stood.

"That may be so, but you look lovely."

I frowned, twisting around to face him. "Aye, and I'll make a pretty corpse if an orc should get a fistful of my hair and use it to pull me close and slit my throat."

"Tal—,"

"And another thing!" I got to my feet, fists on my hips, and loomed over him. "Should you decide to peek in on my bath again, I will relieve you of a bit of your anatomy using your own knife. I'll leave _which_ bit to your imagination."

"_Tal_."

Fili cleared his throat awkwardly, jerking his chin at something behind me. The sky had brightened while I'd napped just enough for me to be able to see Bofur standing at the base of the stairs, his eyebrows raised high and mouth gaping a bit in surprise.

_Oh, Mahal._

Bofur blinked several times, looking uncomfortable. "Ah, I don't know what I just walked into, and I'm not entirely certain that I _want_ to know—I just came to tell you that Gloin said that Thorin told us to pack up and meet in the dining hall."

"Right, we'll be right there." I choked out.

Once Bofur disappeared through an archway I snatched up my bag, all but sprinting down the steep stairway with a quick "Meet you in the dining hall!" over my shoulder to Fili. The wind felt good on my burning cheeks as I ran along the leaf-cluttered paths, poking my head into empty rooms until I found mine. I was so warm from the exertion and my embarrassment that putting on my coat felt akin to strapping myself into an oven, the addition of my cloak making the sensation even worse. My fingers shook as I tightened my vambraces over my arms and strapped my pack to my hip.

I couldn't believe I'd kissed Fili. Had I really done that? Or had it all been some drunken dream, influenced by Elvish wine? What did that say about me if I _was_ imagining kissing Fili?

_I don't think I want any of this. _I thought with a groan, strapping on my scabbard so my sword rested heavily between my shoulder blades. _Weird, fluttery heart, weak knees—I don't want it. I don't want to be like…._ I let the thought trail off, my mother's devastated face flashing before my eyes.

I took Fili's knife from my pack, jamming it into my vambrace as I retraced my path to the dining hall. When I rounded the corner I had to stop in the doorway and stare. A laugh bubbled up from my lips, chasing away my brooding thoughts as I took in the state of the dining hall. Food still lay scattered about the floor amongst broken crockery, and the remains of a fire smoldered by the balcony, the embers feeding on broken furniture. What was missing amongst the chaos, however, was the rest of the company.

"Tal!" I turned at the loud whisper, hurrying to where Fili, Kili and Bilbo paused in a doorway. The hobbit shut the door quietly behind me, and the four of us made our way quickly along the nearby bridge. The others had already crossed and were quietly making their way along the ridge, and we rushed to meet up with them. The first rays of the dawn shimmered on the surface of the water as we began our slow climb back up the rocky path.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review!**


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